


Four Girls Sirius Black Could Have Fallen In Love With (And One He Did)

by So_Caffeinated (so_caffeinated)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Themes, Angst, Boys Being Boys, Canon Compliant, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Marauders, Sex, Underage Sex, Wartime Violence, canon makes things sad, fierce girls are awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_caffeinated/pseuds/So_Caffeinated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black made a big impression on a lot of people. There were at least five girls who made a big impression on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i Annie / ii Lily

(Annie)

Before the accidental magic started, before Hogwarts and Marauders and Death Eaters, there was Annie.

Nine years old and possessing far more energy than Walburga Black had any idea how to deal with, Sirius had been sent up the street to the park with the instructions not to return until he could act like a civilized wizard. This was the _best punishment ever._

Freedom was intoxicating to Sirius. The October air seemed crisper, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter and he reveled in all of it.

Crossing the street to the park with a grin plastered across his face and a self-sure gait, Sirius immediately spotted the only other person braving the admittedly chilly weather. Dangling upside-down from the monkey bars, her face red from the blood rushing to it and her long brown curls nearly touching the grass, hung a girl about his age with a smile just as wide as his.

"'Lo," she called out. "What's your name? Do you want to play?"

She didn't bother dropping down from the monkey bars or hoisting herself back up as she spoke, but instead swayed slightly as if she were on an upside-down swing.

"Sure," he replied, somewhat mesmerized by the way the girl never seemed to stop moving. "I'm Sirius. What's your name?"

"Sirius?" she laughed heartily, finally flipping down off the bars to face him. "That's a funny kind of a name. I'm Annie. Do you live around here? Want some licorice? I have some in my bag."

Before he had a chance to answer, she darted over to a pink knapsack with a unicorn on it under a nearby oak tree and riffled through it.

"Here we go. Wanna go halvesies on it?" she asked, holding up a licorice strip.

"Uh... yeah, thanks," Sirius replied as she tore the sweet in half and handed him a piece. "What do you wanna play?"

"Well, I was just pretending to be a pirate, battling the Royal Navy to get my loot back to Barbados. You can be my first mate, if you want," she offered.

Sirius blinked at her kind of oddly because... okay, that was kind of cool, but also wholly unexpected.

"I'm nobody's first mate! I'm the Dread Pirate Black, come to plunder your loot!" He declared suddenly.

"ARGH!" She cried, grabbing a stick from amongst the crunchy leaves at their feet and brandishing it like a sword. "No one takes Annie The Great's things! Defend yourself!"

And he did.

Stick-to-stick and nose-to-nose, they battled til sundown. First as pirates (who eventually decided to join forces against the dastardly Royal Navy) and later as a knight and princess (who absolutely did not need anyone else to save her, _thank you very much_ ). And, maybe it was just that the only playmate Sirius had on a regular basis was his little brother - who seemed to be entirely too civilized a wizard for a seven-year-old - but the afternoon with Annie was the most fun he could ever remember having.

Breathless from hours of play, the duo had collapsed onto the grass, smiling and exhausted.

"You know," she said. "I think your parents must have a quirky sense of humour if they named you Sirius."

"Nah," he disagreed. "I'm just a massive disappointment."

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed. "You're a pirate and a prince. A pirate prince! That's legendary! How could that disappoint anyone."

Sirius smiled at her but didn't answer because, honestly, he didn't know. He'd never understood his family and was starting to think that he never might.

"I've gotta go before my mum gets worried," Annie said, standing up and dusting herself off. "Can you meet me here again tomorrow after school? I was planning on exploring the ancient pyramids. I could use another explorer to watch my back."

It was unexpectedly pleasing how hopeful she looked, big brown eyes looking eager and nervous all at once.

"Are the pyramids cursed?" Sirius questioned as if it would make a difference.

"Of _course_ ," she said, rolling her eyes. "And there are mummies. Cursed mummies, even. I need a best friend to help me fight them off and get the treasure before the whole thing collapses and the mummies get out and start attacking the city!"

He couldn't help but grin in response.

"Yeah, I'll be here," he replied, not caring about how he'd get out of his house, just certain that he'd find a way.

"Brilliant!" she declared, and it was.

For nearly the next two years Sirius would sneak out once or twice a week and meet Annie at the park. She was a muggle, he knew, and he couldn't tell her of Hogwarts or magic. Still, he couldn't help but imagine how much she'd love it. Their adventures were all make-believe, but he could picture her a curse-breaker or the like, exploring tombs for real.

Soon, very soon, he'd be off at school and she'd still be here, at the park up the road from his house. In his mind, that's where she'd always be, hanging upside-down from the monkey bars or halfway up a tree on the lookout for the Royal Navy. At best they'd see each other over summers and Christmas hols, but it wouldn't be the same.

"I don't understand why you have to go to boarding school," she muttered, kicking the dirt as though it had personally offended her.

"It's a whole family legacy thing," he said, offering her as close to the truth as he dared.

"Your family's stupid," she said petulantly and he laughed sharply in response.

"You'll get no argument from me there," he said.

They were quiet for a minute, her toeing the dirt, possibly the stillest he'd ever seen her. There was a wrongness about that. She was the closest thing to a force of nature he'd ever known, the most alive person he'd met at the age of not-quite-twelve.

"I don't want you to go," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, because he couldn't quite agree. He didn't want to leave her, but Hogwarts was Hogwarts and he had been anxious to go and get out of his parents' house for years.

"I'll miss you," he offered up.

"Obviously," she countered, grinning a little bit behind her mane of dark brown hair, still staring at her toes.

There was a weird, awkward silence for a long second and he knew he didn't have long before he had to leave.

Impulses drove a lot of what Sirius did, always had, always would. And suddenly, he wanted to capture some of that liveliness Annie breathed, wanted to bottle it up and take it with him.

He leaned forward and pecked her straight on the lips. It was quick and her hair was in the way and she looked at him with those big brown eyes, totally stunned. But it still made his heart race from his own daring and he knew in that second that he'd always, _always_ remember Annie.

 

 

* * *

 

 

(Lily)

He would forever wonder what would have happened if he'd noticed her before James. But the third sentence out of James' mouth after he met his soon-to-be-best-friend (after "Hi, I'm James Potter. What's your name?" and "Reckon we could slip some everlasting fizz powder into the pumpkin juice on the food trolley") was "See that redheaded girl there? I'm going to marry her." And so, Lily had been off limits before Sirius had even met her.

Still, as years rolled by, Sirius could see what James saw, the way her eyes lit up when she found something interesting, the wicked grin she'd get when she was feeling mischievous, the way curves started to soften her figure as they went into third year. And even if he was intensely loyal to James, never even entertaining romantic notions of Lily behind imperturbed bed-curtains, he couldn't help noticing her. He was only human, after all.

"Did you remember to grab the streamers?" a voice said interrupting his thoughts, and Sirius turned to find impatient green eyes staring back at him.

"Uh... See, I'm kind of more of a supply-the-liquor sort of guy, Lils," Sirius reminded her, making a gesture that would have been a shrug if his arms weren't weighed down with a case of something decidedly not butterbeer.

"Sirius!" she protested, hands on her hips as she looked at him in a way that eeriely reminded him of James' mum.

"What?" he asked somewhat defensively - he had promised to grab some from Zonko's after all.

She shook her head and walked off to the other side of the Gryffindor common room undoubtedly busying herself with balloons or glitter or something.

At fifteen, Sirius really didn't understand girls - something James' dad had laughed at and said would never change (though he would get better at handling the confusion, he was told). He didn't understand them, but he sure did like them. Luckily for him, he'd somehow skipped that awkward gangily teenage boy phase entirely and most girls seemed to like him right back.

"It's just streamers, Lily," he said, unable to let it go when she was obviously unhappy. "I bet you no one will even miss them."

"I'll miss them," she countered, looking sad before a wolfish grin overtook her face. "I was going to charm them to wrap Potter up like a mummy so we could all pelt him with neon coloured self-expanding goo-filled balloons."

And this, this right here, was what James and Sirius hadn't had a clue of when James had first proclaimed his love for Lily four years prior. Smart Lily, kind Lily, always-fair Lily, had a wicked sense of humour and a quietly daring streak a mile wide.

"You're amazing, Evans," he told her, grinning back. "I think there might be some streamers left in the Quidditch supply closet from the last House Cup win."

"Oh, that's a brilliant idea!" Lily said, perking up measurably. "I'll run and check. You stay here and finish setting up the drinks."

Remus was in the infirmary still from the full moon two nights prior and Peter was busy distracting Filch and Mrs. Norris (dangerous job for a rat, really) so their party wouldn't get busted up before it started and James was still in the Quidditch locker rooms cleaning up after a very close game against Slytherin, so Sirius agreed and Lily quickly made her way out of the Gryffindor tower in the direction of the Quidditch supply closet.

Sirius had busied himself with charming the cups (never-empty charms were a beautiful thing) and stuffing a few whoopie cushions into the sofa (because, hey, fifteen-year old boy) when Lily unexpectedly reentered the room rather shortly after she left.

"That was fast, did they have any..." he began until he saw the look on her face.

Always-bright-eyed, fiery Lily looked stricken, and Sirius was instantly ready to confront whoever stole the light from Lily's ever-expressive eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, honestly concerned.

"Nothing," she replied in clipped fashion, pausing to look at him as she shuffled her weight back and forth uneasily.

"You didn't know that... I mean... if you knew you wouldn't have..." she started.

"If I knew what?" he asked honestly perplexed.

"Nothing," she said quickly, apparently no longer interested in whatever she'd been asking. "Look, I'm not feeling much like a party. You guys have fun," she said in a tone that didn't invite debate before turning and hurrying up the stairs.

No sooner had she gone, ignoring Sirius' calls behind her, than the door to the Gryffindor common room opened and James came tumbling through looking as though he'd possibly just stepped off his broom.

"Where's Lily?" he asked with no preamble, looking slightly frantic.

"What the hell, James?" Sirius asked, ignoring the question. "What happened?"

James sighed hugely and ran his hands through his hair, somehow managing to mess it up even further.

"Well... there was... you see..." he started.

"Mate, you're making about as much sense as she did when she came back in here," Sirius told his friend.

James groaned loudly and collapsed onto the sofa, setting off an entirely inappropriately timed whoopie cushion.

"Great," James said dramatically. "My life's complete."

Sirius didn't repeat his earlier question. He just stared at James with obvious impatience. He never had done well with waiting.

"Well who just bursts into a broom closet without knocking first?" James finally asked, red-faced and guilty.

Sirius' eyes must have widened considerably at that, but James sure wasn't making eye-contact enough to notice.

"Are you telling me that Evans - love-of-your-life-Evans - walked in on you snogging some..." Sirius' voice trailed off.

"Some Slytherin Chaser?" James asked meekly.

"Not Arista," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose a bit. "If you're going to start snogging Slytherins at least tell me it wasn't Pritchard."

"Ew, no, give me some credit," James protested. "...It was Clio."

"Harper?" Sirius asked, giving that idea a bit of thought before shrugging. "All right, well... best of the lot I guess. But still... _James_."

"I know," he moaned thudding his head against the back of the sofa. "What am I gonna do? I love Lily!"

"For a smart bloke, you really are an idiot sometimes," Sirius told him, whole-heartedly meaning it.

"Yeah," sighed James. "I know.

 


	2. iii Maura

 

(Maura)

There were very few people in the world who could do as many things on a broom as Maura Shacklebolt. Sirius appreciated that in absolutely every way he could.

Truth be told, there were a ton of things Sirius appreciated about Maura - her easy-going nature, her confidence, her well-timed quips. But the thing he enjoyed the most about her was that she didn't make everything a Big Deal. She didn't start naming their hypothetical future children after one date (unlike Reda Dunnell and... really... Agrapantha Black? Seriously?). She didn't get possessive or call him her boyfriend. She didn't even make a big deal out of sex ("That was fun, Black," she'd said after their first time together. "Should do it again some time"). Yes, he really, really liked Maura.

They'd been together, though not exclusive, when he'd left his family and found refuge in the Potter's home. They stayed that way afterwards, too.

His break with his family had been bitter, nasty, and left him more rebellious and sour than usual. It had shifted something inside him, brought a darker edge he'd not had before. But denying the world outside was easy when he was drunk or fighting or had some girl's skirt hiked up around her waist. Usually, the girl in question was Maura. When it wasn't, she didn't seem to care much. At least at first.

It was sometime in late January, snow piled heavily outside and a chill in the air that not even heating charms could erase entirely. He didn't remember much of the night before but his face hurt and his throat was brittly dry and from the weird tingly feeling in his legs he was pretty sure there was some sort of hex wearing off on his lower extremities. Groaning with great distaste at the whole idea of morning, he shielded his eyes because, why exactly was the sun so damn bright?

"Morning sunshine," came a voice that sounded less amused than usual and Sirius peeked open one eye to find Maura - hangover remedy mercifully in hand - looming over his bed.

"Ugh, shut the curtains," he begged, grabbing the potion from her hand and downing it with a wince, grateful to feel its effects washing over him almost instantly.

"Preferably with you on this side of them, love," he said, wagging his eyebrows a bit (because, hey, sixteen-year-old boy).

"Glad to see my potion-making skills are up to par," she replied, taking the now-empty vial from his hand. "You smell like the floor of the Hog's Head, Sirius. What in the world makes you think I'd want to be within five metres of of you?"

He sniffed his own shirt and winced. Damn... was that blood on his shirt? What the hell had he done the night before?

"I don't know. My dashing good looks? My charm?" he questioned, grinning widely. "Experience?"

She snorted in retort.

"No need to be ego-bruising about it," he grumbled a little.

"Where are the boys?" He asked, noting for the first time that it was just the two of them in the room (though, really, the lack of groaning and long-suffering sighs as he propositioned Maura ought to have been a clue).

"Remus and Peter were going to work on Transfiguration homework with McKinnon and Meadows," she said. "James said something about meeting Clio down at the lake, which explains Lily's miserable mood this morning."

"He's an idiot," Sirius said with great affection, yawning hugely.

"He really is," Maura confirmed with far less affection.

If James was trying to get Lily by making her jealous, he was doing a terrible job at it. Yes, she was clearly annoyed by James' on-again/off-again snog-fest with the Slytherin girl, but it sure as hell didn't seem to be endearing him to her in the least.

"Take a shower," Maura half-suggested, half-ordered.

"Join me?" he asked.

"Merlin you just don't give up, do you?" she asked, laughing in spite of herself.

"Wouldn't be very Gryffindor of me if I did, would it? I am nothing if not a credit to my house," he nodded solemnly.

"You're ridiculous is what you are," she countered. "Go. Shower. Alone. I'll be here when you get out."

Contrary to character and owing entirely to the fact that he didn't particularly like smelling of stale beer, hay and the bottom of someone's shoe, Sirius listened. And, true to her word, Maura was still there, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Sirius didn't really have a "type" when it came to girls. He liked girls, appreciated whatever assets they had. But Maura really was stunningly pretty, made more so by the fact that she didn't seem to care about her looks at all. With her, he pretty much liked the whole package. She was muscular but curvy with rich skin, light eyes and half-tamed curls that spilled just past her shoulders. Usually she wore a devil-may-care grin, too. Right now was not usual.

"Knew I could get you into my bed," he smirked, hoping to lighten the mood.

And, about that, what the hell? Why did the mood need lightening? He was confused. And Sirius Black did not like being confused.

"We need to talk," she told him, looking up at him with total seriousness.

"Er, what's up?" he asked, heart suddenly pounding madly in his ears because... 'We need to talk?' Wasn't that how birds started conversations that ended in shot-gun weddings and dirty nappies?

"You remember how you got home last night?" she asked him, head cocked to the side a bit with honest interest.

"Bleeding hell, Maura," he said taking a deep steadying breath. "This is about me being stupid about something last night?"

"Yeah," she agreed, looking at him as though he might be off his rocker as he laughed with huge amounts of relief. "What the bloody fuck is so funny about you being a total jackass?"

"For a minute there you had me worried that you were going to say you were up the duff," he choked out in the midst of his nervous laughter, collapsing next to her on the bed.

"Oh Good Godric, no," she said, wrinkling her nose at the idea and looking every bit as young as she was in that moment.

She looked a little like she might puke at the thought, actually, which only made him laugh harder.

"It's not funny, you prat," she said, trying not to break out into a grin because his laughter really was infectious.

"It's a little funny," he argued.

"It's not!" she protested, laughing a little along with him.

They laughed together for a minute in spite of her objections, both of them lying back on the bed, staring up at the garnet canopy as the sunlight played across it. They didn't speak, even after the laughing stopped, for quite some time. And, considering there was no snogging going on either, that was kind of odd. The silence was heavy and awkward and Sirius still didn't know why.

"So what's going on then?" he finally asked, not knowing what the conversation was about but already loathing the idea of it.

"Aurors had to drag you back to the castle last night, you know," she said after a minute. "You snuck out, got into a bar fight with Lucius Malfoy at the Hog's Head and got your drunk arse dragged home by Aurors, Sirius."

Well... that explained the blood on his shirt anyhow.

"Brilliant," Sirius said dryly, a dark gleam in his eye, patently not seeing the problem. "Tell me Malfoy's in Mungo's and this'll be a capital morning. Already my not-girlfriend is not-pregnant, did I manage to get my not-family not-in-one-piece, too?"

And that was the crux of it right there. His _not_ -family.

"You're a bleeding idiot," she told him, eyes boring into him with uncomfortable levels of understanding. "You're lucky Aberforth told the Aurors that Malfoy was baiting you or else you'd have woken up in a Ministry holding cell this morning instead of your bed."

"Doesn't matter," he argued petulantly, because he didn't want to feel indebted to anyone, even if - maybe especially if - he owed them a debt.

"It really does," she countered. "Sirius, ever since... ever since you moved in with James' family - don't interrupt me, I need to get this out - ever since then you've been more and more destructive. As your friend, I'm worried.

"I get it, I do. I completely understand why you're acting out, but I don't want to be part of your rebellion," she said.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, denial and defenciveness evident in his voice.

"Sex, alcohol, fights. It's what you do to cope, to act out, whatever," she clarified. "And the fallout is getting worse every time. Now there's Aurors involved and you're punching out Lucius Malfoy..."

"I punched him out?" Sirius asked, perking up a bit and letting the rest of what she was saying slip right past him.

"Sirius, I'm breaking things off with you, love," she replied, ignoring his question totally.

"I don't get it," he said.

And he didn't. Girls didn't break up with him, but if they did he'd expect them to be mad or crying or... or _something_. Maura was lying next to him on his bed like she'd done dozens of times, smiling at him and telling him it was over? It just didn't add up.

"We've been mates since we were firsties, Sirius," she clarified. "I hate seeing you fall apart and I refuse to be part of your self-destructive patterns. I'm better than that. If you need me, really need me. I'll be there for you, no matter what. But we're not shagging again."

Either due to prior experience or stubbornness, he didn't believe her.

It didn't really bother him at first. He wasn't lacking for female attention and even though he liked Maura, he wasn't what anyone would call broken-hearted.

But a week turned into two - January slipped away, then February - and still, while they played gobstones together and drank together and listened to quidditch on the wireless together, she refused his advances, wholly sticking to her vow. It did become kind of annoying. But he wasn't actually convinced that they were done until March.

"You slept through an interesting morning," Remus said, leaning against a bedpost as Sirius yawned and stretched in front of the mirror.

"I find that doubtful," Sirius countered. "'Interesting' and 'morning' are contradictory in the first place and everyone's had their nose stuck in a bloody book prepping for OWLs for the past two weeks."

"Not today," Remus said, contradicting him.

"What happened, then?" Sirius asked, sniffing a shirt that had been tossed upon his trunk before shrugging and pulling it over his head.

"Well, for starters, James broke things off with Clio," Remus replied.

Sirius tossed a skeptical glance at his friend. Because... really? James and Clio having a spat wasn't exactly shocking news. Or news at all for that matter. They were both hard-headed and often at odds. If they'd actually started _dating_ or holding hands in public or referring to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, that would have been shocking. But the commitment-phobic Slytherin girl and Mr. Ego Gryffindor having a row? Not news.

"So they yelled at each other and she stormed off in a huff," he said, looking at Remus as though the other boy were maybe crazy. "You know how this goes. They'll be snogging each other's faces off by noon, Remus. Hell, they probably already are."

"No, they didn't have a fight," Remus explained. "It was all very calm and awful. James finally went and told her that he was never going to have a shot at Lily if he kept fooling around with her and that he wanted to be with Lily, so he was breaking things off. It was the whole 'let's just be friends' and 'it's not you it's me' speech."

"He's an idiot," Sirius said, shaking his head.

Evans was never going to give James the time of day. He was convinced of it. And Clio and James? Against all odds, they kinda made sense together. Sirius gave it a week tops before they got back together. Maybe two if Clio was livid.

"She looked pretty upset," Remus ventured. "You know, as much as she ever does. She doesn't really tend to show her feelings much."

"Could you sound more like a girl if you tried?" Sirius asked, because informing him their best mate had broken things off with his sometimes-girl was one thing but speculating about other people's feelings was entirely another.

"I just thought... well you guys are friends... kind of," Remus shrugged, letting the girl comment slide by without phasing him. "I thought you might want to know how she's doing."

Whatever. He liked Clio well enough, sure. But his loyalty was clearly, absolutely with James. Always would be. He wouldn't go see how Clio was doing. She wouldn't even expect or want for him to. Probably he wouldn't anyhow. Maybe.

"Er... Speaking of relationships..." Remus started, looking kind of awkward. "I wanted to ask you about something."

"Moony, please tell me you aren't about to confess to fancying me or I'm going to feel entirely awkward about having just changed in front of you," Sirius deadpanned.

Remus made a rude gesture and threw a nearby pillow at the other boy's head (and missed).

"I wanted to ask you if you'd mind if I asked Maura out," he replied, looking no less nervous.

Sirius' brow furrowed and he froze, staring at his mate. Did he mind? Sort of, but he couldn't quite sort out why. After all, he certainly wasn't dating her anymore and while he still thought fondly of her it wasn't like he was pining away. Still, it rubbed him a bit wrong that his mate would date his ex-girlfriend. He was pretty sure that broke some sort of rule or something.

"Uh..." he replied, wholly taken off-guard.

"It's just... I really like her," Remus said, biting on his lip a little. "And, I don't know, we've been talking some lately and I think she might fancy me too. But I know you two had a thing for a while and if you don't want me to ask her out, I won't."

"Doesn't bother me at all," Sirius replied, lying through his teeth.

"You sure?" Remus asked, hopeful but hesitant. "You aren't upset or anything?"

"Yeah, well, you know, I kinda pity you, actually," he grinned, the smile taking over his whole face. "I'm a tough act to follow, mate."

Sirius promptly had another pillow chucked at his head (this one didn't miss).

Later that day, Remus and Maura were a couple. Weeks (and months and years) later - much to Sirius' surprise - they still were. They were both his friends and he cared about both of them. He wasn't jealous in the least and he didn't still _want_ Maura. But still, every now and then when he looked at them together he felt like maybe he'd missed out on something


	3. iv Stella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definite M rating on this chapter.

(Stella)

Watching Stella was kind of like watching a supernova. You knew it was going to explode. You knew you'd go blind staring at it. But you still couldn't quite get yourself to look away. Stella Gardner was exactly like that. For that matter, so was Sirius' relationship with her.

A year older than him, in a lot of ways Stella was the ultimate rebellion. A half-blood Ravenclaw whose mother had been a respectable Pureblood once upon a time - a Lestrange at that - Stella was a rabidly temperamental artist and a political activist that stood for everything Sirius' parents hated. In that way, at least, she was _perfect_.

There was usually paint under her fingernails instead of on them, which was something he'd found interesting about her at the start, back when things had been fresh and new. After the better part of a year together, the luster had worn off their relationship a bit. Her fiery nature seemed more temperamental now and far less endearing. Their spats were no longer riveting arguments that inevitably led to fantastic make-up sex, but were annoying, leaving him frustrated and wondering why he bothered.

That wasn't true. He knew why he bothered.

Despite the current trend, they'd been a much-needed source of strength for each other throughout the year. She'd held his hand through James' parents' funerals, oddly quiet for once in her life, lending him some of her considerable strength. He'd been there for her when she'd fallen apart after Death Eaters killed one of her sisters and her father, finding her collapsed in front of an eerie, half-finished painting of her dead fourteen year old sister, manic because she couldn't get the paint the right shade of red for blood.

Sixth year had been a hard one for everyone. But it had been made easier with Stella at his side. Plus, if he was being honest, the sex was really pretty fantastic. And he liked Stella, he really did. So, that had to all be enough, didn't it? It needed to be enough.

If he was with Stella, he wasn't with anyone else. He had a long history of short-term relationships and one-night-stands, to be sure, but he'd never been a cheat. It wasn't in him. So he needed to be with Stella - _had_ to be. If he wasn't with her, it would be a lot harder to keep away from another girl, one decidedly not Stella and decidedly off-limits. He couldn't have _her_. He didn't want to want her. He didn't even want to acknowledge that he wanted her. So, he had to make things with Stella work. It was just easier that way. And anyhow, generally the sex was pretty good (and he was an eighteen-year-old boy, after all).

"Are you honestly studying?" she asked him with amusement, breaking through his thoughts with a too-wide grin and clear blue eyes. "I have my NEWTs next month and _I'm_ not studying."

"Yes, well, '1002 Household Herbs And How To Use Them' is a riveting piece of work," he smirked back at her, injecting a bit of levity he really didn't feel into his voice.

She laughed at that, a low, throaty sound that actually worked to shift his mood. She might be temperamental as a niffler in Gringot's, but she was also sexy as hell and when she laughed like that it was a pretty good sign that he was about to get the opportunity to experience precisely how hot his girlfriend was.

Stella grabbed the book out of his hands and tossed it aside, settling herself on his lap.

"Oi! I was reading that!" Sirius objected in mock-annoyance.

"You're entirely too distracting for me to study, so it's only fair that I distract you in turn," Stella responded, nipping the underside of his chin.

"You make a terrible Ravenclaw," he told her and she laughed against the skin of his neck. "Shirking off studying and talking of fairness. I'd say the sorting hat ought to have put you in Hufflepuff, but you're not exactly working hard either."

"Not working hard at _school_ anyhow," she countered, pulling back and grinning at him as he slide his hands up the back of her shirt, lifting the fabric along the way and teasing her skin with his fingers.

Sirius shifted a bit to widen his legs and settled her more firmly against him, earning him a hum of appreciation from her. Giving up the pretense of having any objections to diverting their study plans, he leaned in and let his mouth work its way with tiny kisses up the length of her neck to her earlobe.

They were almost never playful. Not like this. They were intense and harried and frustrated and passionate, but rarely playful. Still, he found he was rather enjoying it and it seemed odd how much he hoped they could continue to have this easy, teasing dynamic. He honestly wished it would stick.

His hands found her bra and worked the clasp with slow, deliberate movements, making it a point not to rush this. They always rushed. Maybe they needed to slow down? Find a new pace. Maybe that was the key to solving all their recent problems. He doubted it even as he convinced himself it was the cure-all. Somewhere, deep inside, in a place where he preferred never to look, he knew full well that his problems with Stella had nothing to do with Stella and everything to do with himself.

She hummed in quiet appreciation as his hands worked across her back and spread her knees further against the stone floor, nudging a still-wet paintbrush out of the way with her toes as she bore her weight down on him more firmly.

"You know..." she said slowly, biting her lip for effect as her fingers dragged lazily through his hair - Merlin, he loved that - her nails scraping lightly at his scalp along the way. "I'm not opposed to a little hard work, now and then. "

Lord but she was in a good mood. When Stella was feeling temperamental he either ended up covered in paint or scratches and while the scratches had mostly been fun to get, the paint and the strop he could have done without. Today, however, unlike during most of their recent encounters, she seemed less moody and more relaxed. He was all too happy to play along.

Her fingers in his hair had him squirming a little and he found himself inadvertently leaning into the feel of them, seeking more of the friction between her fingertips and his skin. She knew what she was doing to him though, as he could never quite hold it together when she rubbed his scalp like that and it was only a matter of moments before he'd rolled her over and his lips found hers in a long, lazy kiss.

She sighed against his lips and matched his lazy intensity, one hand trailing down his chest as the other reached up to cup his jaw. His lips were soft and seeking against hers, a far cry from the harsh kisses and clacking of teeth most days.

"I'm a fan of hard work, I think, if this is your definition," he muttered against her skin.

She pulled back ever-so-briefly to get a look at his eyes, smiling hugely up at him. But opening his eyes in return, he was momentarily surprised to find her clear blue gaze staring back at him.

Why had he been expecting hazel?

"Me too," she agreed, grinning broadly.

Panic rose up in his chest as the image of another girl came to the forefront of his mind. A girl who was firmly off-limits. Why was he thinking of her at a time like this? That was not okay. He couldn't be thinking of her. Not now.

Merlin, but he was a prat. This was unfair to Stella. He needed to get his head straightened out and fast because despite the hazel-eyed object of his thoughts just then, he liked Stella. He liked her quite a lot and he had no intention of hurting her over some silly misplaced feelings for another girl. End of internal argument. Done. Finished.

He really wanted to believe that was true.

She gasped as he lowered his head to her still-clothed breast and suckled at it through her shirt. One of her hands gripped at his hair while the other one stroked the back of his neck with feather-light touches. His skin prickled beneath her fingertips and he made a small, contented noise against her breast.

His hand that wasn't supporting his weight had drifted down to her waist, long, sure fingers sliding up her side in a practiced, steady motion that had her squirming for more. His fingers barely skirting the underside of her ribs before tracing back down to her hip, some mixture of a groan and a sigh escaped her lips and he switched his attention to her other breast.

He kind of loved it when she twined her hands in his hair. He loved it even more when she tugged, holding on as though needing something to grip and so he was mildly disappointed when her hand left his hair. His disappointment, however, was short-lived.

"Help me get this off? I want to feel your skin," she said, her hand having found its way to the hem of his shirt.

He had no idea why she'd phrased it as a question.

He sat up, making quick work of his shirt and tossing it aside, before tugging up the hem of _her_ shirt and inching it over her belly, her breasts, her shoulders, until it too was piled in the corner. His hands played along the length of her breastbone, teased the fabric of her bra, and tripped a path over her shoulder, his lips occasionally punctuating the long, slow strokes of his hands with soft, solid kisses.

She was making impatient mewing sounds, her body softly shifting under his touch. It struck him how odd it was to touch her with this kind of intent: knowing exactly where these actions were taking them and having her react so... quietly. Stella was loud. She was loud in everything and sex was no different. So, having her half-dressed and nearly panting, he expected groans and half-formed words and curses and exclamations, but he wasn't getting any. She writhed and rolled under him, shivering and moaning so softly he would have forgotten who he was with if he wasn't staring right at her.

It was unfortunate that this was disappointing to him, that she wasn't someone else. Someone who _would_ mew and moan and quake for him. Someone who wouldn't scream and cry so loudly that he sometimes hated it. Someone who would not make a production out of sex. Someone who was _not_ Stella.

Thoughts of tighter muscles and smaller breasts and darker hair kept appearing behind his eyelids, the other girl's form reacting to him and holding him back, making him act in deliberate, measured movements. That's what _she_ would want. What he'd want with her. But then he'd blink and the girl below him was not the girl in his head.

Shaking his head to clear away the ridiculous thoughts that had permeated his mind, Sirius lowered himself over her, pressing skin against skin, finding her pulse point with his lips and softly drawing the tender skin there between his teeth.

"Now this," he said, letting one of finger of his free hand play under the strap of her bra.

Backing off ever-so-slightly, she slid the garment off, tossing it into the growing pile of clothes in the corner. Her eyes never left his in her movement and it was only the smallest of hesitant, almost _nervous_ smiles on her face as she watched him. This was so different, so completely out of the realm of normal for them.

Even that tiny smile, though, died away as she brought her hands up to touch his face, trace his lower lip, curve along the edge of his jaw.

She really was beautiful. All long limbs and soft skin, pale hair and rounded, deceivingly gentle angles. Her eyes, once so intense and captivating, still somehow managed to convey all of what she was feeling. They had always bared her soul, told the world what she thought and who she was. There was a time when he had found that about the sexiest thing in the world. But just then, with her hand against his face and her bare breasts against his skin, Sirius found himself plunged into something that felt a lot like sorrow.

She was looking at him with so much emotion, so much genuine tenderness and need and want, that he had to close his eyes against the sight of her. He couldn't match that emotion. Not anymore.

There had been a point in their relationship when he truly thought he'd fallen for her - not love, exactly, but something more than what he'd felt for other girls, something special in its own way. But as of late, all of the things he'd once adored about her had come to annoy or frustrate him and he wasn't entirely certain that he knew how to get back the feelings he'd lost... or even if he could.

With his eyes still shut against the odd onslaught of emotion, he decided that maybe he didn't have to. Maybe whatever Stella was feeling was enough, maybe he could draw from her enough emotion to keep them together, to make it work. It had to work. If it didn't... well, there were much more painful things waiting out there if it didn't work.

Rolling his hips gently forward, he lowered his head to meet one nipple with his mouth, then the other, leaving a trail of kisses between them. Slowly, he slid down the length of her body, letting his tongue and teeth draw a path from chest to navel, his own breath now coming in short, shallow bursts to match Stella's. His teeth found the clasp of her skirt and he tugged it open, reveling in the way her hips jumped. He slid a hand up one thigh, under her skirt, over her hipbone, his thumb rubbing circles on the bony ridge there while his other hand worked to pull the garment down past her feet.

With both hands settled on her hips, the circles his thumbs were drawing becoming ever larger, Sirius nipped at her navel and kissed a path back up to her mouth, his body once against settling over her, hips slowly seeking some kind of friction between then and finding it without incident as she matched his movements.

Of course it would work. How could _this_ not work?

Her hands slid down his back, seeking skin, and her leg hitched up over his hip. His hips jerked sharply against her in reaction to the intimate pressure and she gasped out loud, her hands settling against his waist, tracing the line of his jeans.

She turned her head slightly to nip at his ear as he suckled at the tender flesh of her neck.

"Gods, I want you," she breathed and he shuddered and groaned in response.

It was taking a very long time to get his trousers off. Generally, by this point she'd be screaming his name or something profane and clinging to him in a way that would leave bruises or scratches. This time, the point seemed to be to take things slowly, even if he had no idea _why_ that was the point. Okay, well, he refused to _acknowledge_ why, at any rate.

The feel of her leg wrapped around his hip, the heel of her foot digging into the back of his thigh, had him rolling against her with slightly more forceful movements. Her hands found the buttons of his jeans and were working at them with limited success. But, in some deep, self-destructive part of his mind, he wanted to prolong this encounter as long as possible. So, Sirius rolled them, putting Stella above him.

The part of his brain that may or may not have been his conscience, but always sounded oddly like Remus, was telling him that this was all a very bad idea, that he was treating Stella horridly by letting her think that this was all about her. His actions, his emotions, his movements... they weren't about Stella. And, really, they weren't entirely about him, either. But Stella felt something, something strong, and she was damn well exhibiting that right now, showing him that she cared and all he had to do was play along. All he had to do was let her take from his actions what she wanted. There was no need for him to clarify who, exactly, he was secretly wishing she was.

The Remus impostor in his head fell silent, but wasn't convinced. That was just too damn bad. The reality was that whatever notions Sirius' sex-befuddled brain liked to entertain, they weren't possible. Couldn't happen. So what if he wanted to imagine something he couldn't have? As long as Stella didn't know, it would be perfectly fine. He was allowed his fantasies, after all.

He felt her hand suddenly on him, rubbing the inner part of his thigh and he wondered when she'd managed to get the jeans off. Oh well. Didn't matter. She was doing lovely things with her hand now. His hips moved into her touch on their own and he allowed himself to lay back, close his eyes and enjoy the feel of her hand on his skin.

His breathing sped up perceptibly and his hips jerked beneath her as her teeth nipped at the skin low on his belly, peppering his flesh with soft, hot kisses in turn as she tugged his boxers off as well. Thoughts quickly fled his mind as her lips closed around his cock and sucked in an unhurried fashion, the soft insides of her cheeks pulsing against him with each successive dip of her head.

As much as he usually loved this, as much as _any_ 18-year-old boy fucking adored this, a sudden sense of wrongness washed through him. This wasn't part of his fantasy. Not this time. He'd been acting entirely as though he were with someone else for the past who knew how many minutes, touching and feeling and tapping into senses that he and Stella never found on their own. But _this_ didn't fit. It wasn't the movements that were making this encounter so damn intense; it was the fulfillment of Sirius' fantasy, acting out the images already in his head. And this? This felt cheap, all the sudden. This wasn't part of it.

What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

Stella's tongue did something spectacularly distracting that had him lifting his head to look at her, groaning a little at the feel of her lips even as he wrestled with the nagging feeling in his head that this was all wrong. She met his eye, her mouth still wrapped firmly around him. While that should have been incredibly erotic, it left him mostly just feeling frustrated. He wanted this to make his head swim and his body act of its own accord, but neither of those things were happening. Instead, he found himself sitting up and moving forward as she too sat up to press her back to the ground. His mouth found hers for little more reason than to have an excuse to close his eyes and call up the images he had wanted in the first place.

Pressing himself firmly against her, he rolled his weight a little to the side, mouth still exploring hers. It was more hasty than before, his frustrating seeping through. He used the hand not busy supporting his weight to tug down her panties while she lifted her hips and wiggled her legs to dispose of them, before pulling her knees up and wrapping long legs around his waist.

This was much more like it.

Instinctively, he rocked his hips forward, finding that he was suddenly very impatient. He repositioned himself above her slightly before kissing her again and slowly pressing into her, his breath all but leaving him at the sensation and the inescapable images flying through his mind.

A small sigh of relief escaped her against the press of his lips and he groaned above her in an echo of that quiet noise of appreciation. His hand ghosted down her side, light touches that left a trail of goosebumps across the skin of her arm and waist and hip. There was something in this, something different. Something better.

One of her hands traced idle patterns along the slope of his neck while her other hand cupped the side of his face as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. His cheek leaned in, just slightly, against the curve of her fingers and nuzzled against her palm.

Lips finally straying from hers, he kissed her fingers before laying a trail of small kisses along the curve of her jawline. As his lips found her ear, she ducked her head to the crook of his neck and sighed contentedly against his skin.

All of the impatience he had felt melted away at the feeling of her body closing around him - legs, arms, all of it - and he found himself slowly moving into her, his hips shifting forward and back again with little urgency. His hands wandered across her body in soft strokes, reverently.

His mind was so lost to the idea of some unattainable fantasy of those brown-green eyes and that dark hair that he didn't even realise how very, very differently he was treating the girl beneath him, the one who was certainly not the girl he imagined himself touching, kissing, rocking into. Had he been truly aware of how much he was letting his want affect his actions, he would never have let things progress this far. But Sirius hadn't realised that and when she buried her face in his neck, her breath flitting across his skin and under his ear. And, suddenly, he was thrown into another time, another place, another girl. His body shivered and he rocked a little deeper, his mind awash with the feel of cold night air and warm bodies.

"Oh, God, Clio."

Stella froze.

Hips stopped grinding, hands stopped caressing. Stella pressed her palms against his shoulders to force his head up and catch his eyes and it was only then that it really dawned on him what had just happened.

_Oh fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck._

What the hell had just happened? Had he really just...

_Fuck._

"Get off me," she ground out in a low, measured tone. "Get _out_ out me."

A solid shove against his shoulder set him flat on his back on the cold, stone floor, staring blankly up at the ceiling as Stella scrambled to her feet to put distance between them. If she'd cared to stop and notice - and he was under no illusion that she would - she'd have realised that he looked even more surprised about his inadvertent revelation than she seemed to be.

"You utter bastard," she spat, hurriedly tugging her shirt over her head and stepping into her skirt. "You totally self-centered, callous _son of a bitch!_ I have put up with so much _shite_ from you but this really sodding does it!

"Did you think I didn't notice?" she asked, throwing his clothes at him. "All those inside jokes, all the times you just _stared_ at her, the way you both do that _stupid_ thing where you stop laughing and get all awkward? Did you think I missed all that? But you were with me and I figured that meant something. You _chose_ to stay with me and not her, so I ignored it.

"Gods," she yelled, pulling at her long, pale curls in frustration. "You don't even have the decency to be cheating on me with her so that I can hate you good and proper, do you? That would break some code between mates, right? Going after your best friend's ex. It would be too disloyal to James, nevermind me. You're just pining for her while you're fucking me, instead. Sodding champion, Sirius. I never pegged you for a fucking coward."

He couldn't deal with the consequences of what he'd said, so he just lay there, unmoving, trying not to think or hear what Stella was saying. Because, really? He had no excuse and he wouldn't attempt to make one up. There was no coming back from this. Not with Stella. He knew that and he found himself disappointed by how little he wanted to try and fix things anyhow. They'd fallen apart a long time ago, but neither one of them were willing to see it. Now, though... well, they had to.

_I said Clio._

The words flitted into his head and out again, a reminder of what he was desperately trying not to recognise as reality. But the memory of the name and of Stella's face were burned into him, mind and soul. The problem was that accepting the implications of this meant much worse, much more frightening things. Things he was afraid to admit to for fear of what would happen. He was wrong to feel the odd and conflicting emotions he felt toward Clio. But they were there, always, amoral as they may be.

A pair of shoes, one right after the other, connected with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and shifting his mind back into the here and now. Stella was still yelling at him, which he thought he deserved just as much as she apparently did. In all honesty, she deserved much more than the right to throw his shoes at him and to yell. He'd been a total arse. He knew that. But aside from letting her tear him apart, he could offer very little by way of apology and attempting one would only make this worse. It was really better to just let her scream at him.

"Was it always about her?" she demanded. " _Nine_ sodding months? Has it _ever_ been just us or was it always her you were fucking in your head?"

"What?" He'd reacted without thinking about it, finally jarred into movement.

Sirius stood up, uncaring that he was still naked, and spoke before he'd even realised he'd done so.

"No, God no."

And it wasn't. He'd liked Stella quite a lot and, up until very recently, he'd never thought of anyone other than her. The idea that he'd entirely used her to vicariously fuck Clio was revolting and he could let her scream at him all she wanted, but that needed addressing.

"Fuck, Stella, no. That's not at all how it is."

He had no idea how it really _was_ , but she was off the mark. She had to be. He wasn't so cruel as to use her in such a way. Was he?

" _That's not at all how it is_?" she mimicked. "I'm supposed to believe that?

"Did you just suddenly have your mind wander off mid-thrust? Thinking about something perfectly innocuous, were you? I'm certain it had _nothing at all_ to do with you imagining I was her," she spat, looking him dead in the eye and entirely undistracted - for once - by his nude form.

"You know what?" she asked after a second, a note of hurt laced through the anger in her tone. "I _do_ believe that's not how this is. It hasn't been her you've been mentally shagging for nearly a year. I know that. Do you know how I know? Because if it _had_ been, all the other times would have been more like this one. It would have been... intimate and caring. But that's not how you feel about _me_ , is it? That part's all for _her_."

Of all the things she could have said in that moment, he was instantly thrown by her wanting to analyse his bloody feelings. Screaming, kicking, hexing, he'd been prepared for. Crying he'd even expected. But a sodding truth or dare session? This was ridiculous.

He gave her a semi-annoyed look that asked if she was honestly taking this conversation to new lows, before grabbing up his clothes and marching out of her little art studio, the door swinging wide to emit him into the hallway.

What was he supposed to say to that? No, he didn't feel that way about her. He'd never felt that way about Stella. But that didn't mean he felt any certain way toward Clio. What had happened - saying Clio's name - was nothing more than the depraved fantasies of a morally ambiguous prat, he decided. There was no need to analyse them. They would go away soon enough on their own. And so would Stella.


	4. v Clio

(Clio)

He doesn't remember the first time they met (they were four and their mothers were both over for tea at the Avery's), but it certainly wasn't love at first sight. Or second. Or third. In fact, he'd never know when it was he fell for Clio Harper but somewhere along the way, he did.

Ten-years-old and bored to tears, Sirius tipped his chair back in a small act of defiance against his mother. He didn't want to be here with these stupid people sipping tea and eating little cucumber sandwiches when there were outlaws to be rounded up by him and Sheriff Annie on the playground. This was stupid. And Boring.

"You must be so proud of Briareos," his mother was saying to Mab Harper, a woman who was no taller than him and smiled broadly in an unsettling way. "Aurora Rosier is a lovely match for him. Have you any prospects for Kottos or Gyes, yet?"

Sirius tuned them out and solidly ignored both his brother and the woman's daughter, a girl his age that he could probably remember the name of if he bothered trying. Instead, he kept tilting his chair and daydreaming about the playground. Imaginary fun was better than no fun at all, after all.

"Ow," the girl across from him said sharply as he nearly lost his balance and kicked her shin by mistake. "Would you cut it out?"

Luckily, she wasn't particularly loud about it and his mother hadn't taken notice, though Sirius noticed Regulus shaking his head in disapproval, perhaps acting as her proxy.

"Sorry. Am I ruining your little tea party, Harpy?" Sirius asked, keeping his voice low and ignoring his brother's scandalized look.

"My name's Clio," she corrected him, which made him dead-set on using the name Harpy for her again in the future. "And it's not my tea party, it's your mother's. I'm just trying to be a good guest."

"By being seen and not heard?" Sirius scoffed knowingly.

"Not all of us are heirs with the luxury of causing trouble," she reminded him.

As the only girl in her family and the last of four children, she was probably right, but Sirius didn't care and wouldn't admit it if he did. Likewise, he chose to ignore the look on his little brother's face that plainly said he agreed.

"You mean you don't just love lace doilies and frilly dress robes?" he teased. "I thought all girls liked that kind of thing."

Well, all girls but Annie, anyhow.

Clio looked down at the ridiculous frilly thing she was wearing before staring back at him with a look that plainly said what she thought of her outfit without saying a word.

"I'd rather be in a Quidditch kit than playing the part of a doll," she replied in a voice quiet enough to avoid detection from the adults.

He laughed sharply, loudly, in definite amusement, unfortunately drawing the attention of his mother and Mrs. Harper.

"Is your tea amusing you, Sirius?" Walburga asked through gritted teeth, a plain reminder that he ought not be speaking at all.

"Clio, dear, do be a good girl and straighten out your dress robes," Mab Harper instructed her daughter with no affection at all in her voice. "There's a good girl. Mummy's happy with you."

The girl smiled thinly at her mother, with exactly as much genuine emotion as the older woman had exhibited, as she straightened out a bit of lace.

Yeah. Sirius didn't like Mab Harper at all. But, he decided, maybe her daughter wasn't horribly awful.

 

* * *

 

Sirius knew the layout of the dungeons at least as well as he knew the upper levels of the castle. Most of their pranks, after all, were on the Slytherins. But it was exceedingly rare that he be _seen_ walking through Slytherin territory. So, it wasn't surprising that his classmates in green and silver grouped together in the hallways, whispering amongst themselves with their eyes on him and their hands on their wands as he passed.

"You," he said finally, rounding a corner to find the person he was looking for and closing in on her. "We need to have a chat."

Clio Harper raised an eyebrow at him skeptically as her friend, a narrow-faced blonde by the name of Arista Pritchard, laughed at him.

"Come to defend Potter's virtue, Black?" Arista asked, her nasally voice grating on Sirius' ears and nerves.

"Don't bait him," Clio replied sharply before Sirius had a chance to retort. "Give us a minute, would you?"

Arista's eyes widened considerably and she shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't know what's up with you, Clio. First you're dragging Potter into broom cupboards and now you're having a chat with Black? What do you thi-"

"I said give us a minute," Clio interrupted, leaving no room for argument.

Arista was clearly ticked off, but did as Clio told her, stalking off down the corridor and through a door at the end of the hall.

"Don't let the door hit you on the arse, Pritchard," Sirius shouted after her, trying to ignore Clio as she shook her head at him.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked.

"Of course not," he replied, looking at her like she'd lost her mind. "When was the last time I did something because it was necessary?"

"Point taken," she agreed readily.

"What's your game, Harpy?" he asked, driving right to the point and earning a scowl from her all in one.

"My _game_?" she asked coolly. "I presume Arista hit the quaffle straight on with the beater's bat, then? You're in a strop because I snogged your mate? Really?"

All right, out loud that made him feel kind of silly and petty. He didn't like it and he felt like he was losing ground with her before he'd gained any.

"I don't trust you," he informed her, as if it were some sort of revelation.

Her hardened demeanor crumbled at that as she laughed, hazel eyes crinkling in amusement and her petite frame shaking with laughter.

"There's hope for you yet, Sirius," she replied. "Of course you don't trust me. Why should you? You don't even know me."

Fair point, he recognized, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

"And you're a Slytherin," he added somewhat redundantly.

"Yes, Merlin forbid your best friend snog a girl with ambition. Horrid crime, that," she replied, obviously still thoroughly amused. "He definitely ought to stick with aimless Hufflepuffs."

"Did you know Lily would walk in?" he asked, knowing even as he said it that she couldn't have.

Clio looked decidedly less amused all the sudden, crossing her arms in front of her and glaring up at him.

"Did I know that your housemate - who doesn't even play Quidditch - would walk into a Quidditch broom closet, ruining an otherwise perfectly lovely snog for me?" she asked him.

"Well when you put it that way it just sounds ridiculous," he responded.

"Quite," she replied in agreement.

"I don't get it, then," he said.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"He's cute," she finally said, raising her eyebrows at Sirius, as if daring him to disagree with her.

"James..." he said slowly. "You think James is... _cute_?"

"He's right fit. A brilliant kisser, too, as it turns out," she added and Sirius pulled a face.

"I really don't need to know that," he scowled.

"Well, feel free to pass it along to him," she responded, her cheeky grin broadening.

"We've tormented your house for years: tossed dungbombs in your common room, switched your whole house's ink out for disappearing ink during exams last year-"

"I knew that was you," she interrupted.

"We even charmed the lion to eat the snake on the Hogwarts' crest," Sirius continued. "Forgive me if I don't buy that you jumped him because he's 'cute.' You're up to something."

"You didn't target me," she argued. "You targeted my _house_. So sometimes you charm our hair red and gold or slip a potion into our pumpkin juice that makes us babble in pig latin for an hour or two. So what? I can take a joke. Sometimes its even funny. Not generally, but sometimes. Believe what you want but the only agenda I've got here is cornering James in a broom closet again."

"Your friends might have something to say about that," he reminded her, thinking back to Arista's commentary. "Maybe you can take a joke, but most of them can't."

"You don't make friends in Slytherin; you make allies," she informed him. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm fairly certain anyone who's going to be my ally isn't going to let something like who I snog as a teenager make a difference."

"I doubt your brothers would agree with that," he said haughtily.

"Luckily for me - and for James - they've all finished school," Clio replied shrewdly.

"What about Lily," Sirius asked.

"What _about_ her?" Clio asked. "Last I heard she wasn't giving him the time of day and really I wouldn't care if she did. I'm not looking to _date_ him or anything, just fool around a bit."

"A snog buddy," he said, wondering momentarily why more girls weren't like Clio.

"If you want to call it that," she shrugged. "I'm not looking for someone to drag to Madam Puddifoot's. All I want is to have a spot of fun while relieving a little bit of tension and forgetting about school and the rest of the world now and then. I can't believe that _you,_ of all people, have a problem with that idea."

Against his better judgement, he found himself kind of liking this girl - this pureblood who was not of the blood traitor variety, this Slytherin who was wholly unapologetic about it.

"You really think that'll work?" he asked skeptically.

"Sure," she shrugged. "Why not. At worst, we go our separate ways now. At best, we have a spot of fun for a while. Either way it's not like anyone gets hurt."

 

* * *

 

The thing that surprised Sirius the most about Clio and James' whole 'friends with benefits' plan was that somehow, somewhere along the way, the two of them actually did become friends. Less surprising was the fact that she'd become his friend, too.

She never helped them prank (in fact, she'd been livid at them when they'd once pranked the whole of Slytherin other than her; it had not endeared her to her housemates, to say the least). She didn't know about the map or their animagus forms. And she sure as hell didn't know about Moony.

But they'd put together an impromptu game of Quidditch on occasion and her name was always on the shortlist for invites. When the weather was nice, sometimes she'd sit with them out by the lake. If there was a party they were throwing, she was there unless it was in the Gryffindor common room. And while she'd never in a million years sit at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, sometimes she'd sit with them in the Three Broomsticks.

So... yeah. Somewhere along the line things had gone from "Hey, there's that girl James is snogging" to "Oi, Clio, wait up!"

In light of that, it wasn't all that surprising that Sirius' feet somehow found their way toward where he knew he'd find Clio. When she wanted to be alone, she usually holed up in the little room she'd commandeered as her jewelry-making studio sometime before he'd gotten to know her. Some Slytherins wanted to be Minister of Magic or marry well, Clio had no interest in those things. She wanted to design high-end magical jewelry. She was completely dedicated to it, focusing her schooling wholly on things like ancient runes and arthimancy and charms which would prove useful in enchanting gemstones and weaving spells into precious metals.

He knocked before entering, but didn't wait for her to answer because he was pretty sure she wouldn't and he had enough of a sense of entitlement to assume he'd be welcome. She glanced up from her workbench, loupe in hand and a few pale green stones strewn across the table, and he gave her a half-hearted smile. She was dry-eyed - which was good because Sirius hated dealing with weepy girls - but her eyes were a little red and her expression was both totally closed off and obviously unhappy.

"Well at least you knocked," she said dryly. "I don't really feel like company at the moment, if you don't mind..."

"Brilliant," he agreed readily, making his way over to a chair near her and sprawling across it like he owned it. "Me either. We can avoid the world together."

"Sirius..." she said tiredly, raking a hand through her long dark hair and sighing before glowering at him a bit.

"What are you getting Petey for his birthday?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"I... what?" she asked, thrown by the redirection of their conversation.

"Pete's birthday. Next week," Sirius clarified.

She eyed him warily, as if trying to figure out what he was pulling but too worn out to fully consider the options.

"I picked him up the next book in The Daring Adventures of Derrick Wandsworthy series you lot like so much and a Bertie Botts Everlasting Butterscotch Bookmark," she told him.

Peter had been the first of their group, other than James, to befriend Clio after she'd started fooling around with James. It made sense, really. Peter had a bit of hero worship going on for all his mates, but especially James, and Clio had great appreciation for anyone who validated her overwhelming level of self-confidence. The two of them got on great. Not as well as she and James had or she and Sirius did, but certainly better than she and Remus ever managed. She wasn't totally comfortable befriending a half-blood and he sure as hell didn't want her close enough to figure out he was a werewolf anyhow. So, mostly they ignored each other.

"Great, he'll love that," Sirius said. "You giving it to him at his party, then?"

She put her loupe down and scowled at him without any real malice.

"That's what this is about then? You want to make sure I'm still going to his party after... this morning?" she asked.

"Are you?" he questioned, curious as to what she was really thinking.

Clio was a guarded girl, a necessary trait for someone with any sense of self-preservation in a family as frightening and dark as hers. He got it. Hell, he'd lived it. But where he tended to hide behind bravado and pranking and catting around, she was just stoic and difficult to read.

"I'll probably stop by to wish him a happy birthday and drop off his gift," she answered non-committally.

"Look, James is my mate and he's a bit thick," Sirius started, taking the minotaur by the horns and facing things head-on.

"I don't want to talk about it," Clio said sharply, cutting him off.

"But," Sirius continued, as if she'd not even spoken. "I'm pretty sure when he broke things off he wasn't saying he didn't want to be friends anymore."

"Have you had your ears hexed?" she questioned, arms crossed defensively across her chest. "I said I _don't want to talk about it_."

"Too bad," he replied bluntly, swinging his legs around to set his feet firmly on the stone floor and leveling his gaze unflinchingly at her.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that his reasons for coming here were more selfish than he'd assumed them to be. He was a little concerned for her, sure. But more than that, he was concerned that she'd hole up into the dungeons never to be seen again. Friends were everything to Sirius and he wasn't about to allow one to disappear from all their lives just because James was hung up on Lily Evans.

"How is this your business?" she asked angrily, jaw set in defiance.

"Because you're my friend and I damn well want to keep it that way," he replied daringly.

She sighed at that, anger melting away into a pained expression. If she'd had any idea of how vulnerable she'd looked in that moment, how open, she'd have been utterly horrified.

"Sirius... You're James' best mate. I get that and I know what it means," she told him. "I appreciate this... this invasive and rude yet oddly thoughtful visit. But I know exactly where I rank in the scheme of things. I have no desire to get in the middle of your friendship. In fact, I refuse to."

"I appreciate that," Sirius replied sincerely. "And if there were sides to take here, I'd have to be on James' in spite of the fact that he's being an idiot about all this. But there aren't any sides, Clio. He's not mad. You aren't hexing each other in the hallways or spreading nasty rumours about each other. You're just... not snogging anymore."

"Well maybe I'm mad, did you think of that?" she asked, voice laden with emotion and cracking a little toward the end of her question.

"You're not mad," he said softly and with more understanding than she would want to hear. "You're hurt."

She swallowed hard and blinked furiously, looking anywhere but him. Sirius, and most of the rest of Hogwarts, had long ago suspected that James and Clio's friends-with-benefits thing had evolved into something else. It appeared, they'd all been at least half right. It had for her.

"It wasn't supposed to hurt," she confided finally, wiping furiously at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I always knew this would happen eventually. It was always going to be Evans for him in the end. But the whole thing was supposed to be meaningless. It wasn't supposed to hurt when it all ended. That was half the sodding point."

He didn't even think about it before getting out of the chair and going to hug her, resting his chin on the top of her head and letting her sniffle quietly against his shirt a bit. She stiffened at first, uncomfortable at the level of vulnerability or dependency - both of which were things that generally sent her running in the opposite direction. But after a moment she relaxed against him and he felt, for the first time, absolutely sure that their friendships with her would survive James' infatuation with Lily.

After a moment or two, she looked up at him and smiled thinly but genuinely and cupped her hand against his cheek with affection.

"Thanks," she said, her voice a little gravelly. "If you ever tell anyone about this I'll deny it."

He laughed and kissed her forehead before pulling an arm's length away.

"If you didn't, I think they'd revoke your place in Slytherin," he said lightly.

"Too right," she agreed, laughing slightly.

"So... Pete's party?" he asked finally.

"Yeah," she agreed, rolling her eyes at him. "I'll be there."

"Good. I'll hold you to that," he replied.

As it turned out, he didn't have to. She was good to her word, showed up and spent most of the party talking with him and Peter, drinking too much and losing horribly at wizard's chess. Things were awkward between her and James, but that was to be expected. It didn't last long though. As soon as he charmed Peter's presents to dance the conga all the way onto the boy's lap, Clio burst out laughing and he grinned and the tension between them kind of dissolved.

Nearly everyone at the party placed bets on how long it would take the two of them to disappear into a broom closet (Sirius lost five galleons by betting that it would be before the end of the night), but the party ended without them in the on-again phase of their turbulent relationship. Then the week went by. Then a month. Then two. And, though James and Clio settled into a familiar friendship, to everyone's surprise, that was all it was. In the end, Moony won a rather tidy sum when the end of the school year hit, everyone else's dates had long ago passed and his 'never' was the only bet left on the table.

 

* * *

 

Dear Sirius and James,

Since I know you'd both be reading my letter to the other anyhow, I'm writing you a joint owl. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write. I know I promised I'd send word as soon as I got here, but I've been so incredibly busy these last three days that I've not had a chance before now.

Egypt is really very lovely, if not temperate in the least. It's been over 40 degrees during the day and barely below 25 at night. Luckily, I have a tent to myself at the dig site, which is sufficiently cooled, but the museum itself is both wizarding and Muggle and it has neither cooling charms nor the Muggle equivalent yet. But, this internship is definitely worth it. It's a fantastic opportunity, really, and I honestly still can't quite believe I'm here.

I've only barely had a chance to explore the city, but what I've seen so far is really wonderful. I was a bit worried I'd get lost exploring, but one of the other interns has offered to show me around. Billy's been here two months already (the Americans get out of school before us, it seems) and has had a chance to spend some time taking in the sights. There's some little restaurant that's been here for hundreds of years that he swears has the best tiramisu outside of Italy, so we're going to try that tomorrow.

I have to admit I'm longing for English weather and the familiarity of London as well as the presence of friends. How are things back home? Are you keeping busy?

Love,

Clio

. . .

Dear Clio,

Who is Billy?

Things here are brilliant aside from the charity auctions/galas/dances/costume parties/dinners that Mrs. Potter has been forcing the both of us to attend on behalf of the Potter family. ( _J - Don't let him fool you, Clio. He finds it right satisfying to represent my family right in front of his so-called blood relatives) (S - I don't deny that, James. Other than the odd, well-timed brilliant prank, crossing paths with a member of Parliament to the Throne of Evil that is the Black family is the sole highlight of my time in wizarding social circles) (J - ...a member of Parliament to the Throne of Evil that is the Black family?) (S - You disagree?) (J - No, mate, it's just... you've been waiting to use that line for ages, haven't you?) (S - You have no idea)._

We agree that Egypt is stupid and so is studying things over break. You should be here where we can covertly floo you to join us for a game of Qudditch ( _J - Your mum wouldn't mind, right? Kidding, Harper, kidding!)_. We had to make do with Peter's cousin last week and the boy can barely stay on his broom much less play any position.

Anyway, how long is this internship again?

Love, ( _J - Really, Sirius? Not Cheers or Fondly?) (S - Shut up, it's a saying, you ponce)_

Sirius and James

. . .

Sirius and James,

Even though my internship ends with plenty of time, I can't get a floo back to England until the day prior to term. There's so much red tape these days, what with the war at home and the relative calm here (at least in the Wizarding world). It's all bureaucratic nonsense, anyhow. As if the Death Eaters wouldn't have other means of travel or couldn't bribe/cajole/threaten their way into getting pushed through faster? Rubbish, I say.

Billy is that other intern I mentioned, the one from the States. His experience is mostly in curse-breaking while mine is in Charms. It's fascinating work that would bore you both to tears (and pranks, no doubt), but basically his side of the job is to make sure the jewelry is safe for Charms work and then I deconstruct what series of charms were placed on the jewelry. Anyhow, I know neither of you cares much for the specifics of magical jewelry, but Billy is nice enough, I suppose. The tiramisu was as good as promised, though the restaurant was a bit more formal than I expected. I doubt we'd ever be real friends, but Billy is good at his job and pleasant company to work with, even if he does keep insisting that I have a "cute accent" which is rather annoying.

I consider it long overdue justice that you now must endure the endless stream of social gatherings you've so long managed to avoid, Sirius. Look at it this way, it likely annoys your former relations even more to see you representing the Potters as you never elected to do for the Blacks. That ought to be enough to keep a smile on your face.

I'd write more but I'm running late as it is. I'm meant to meet Billy at the museum in twenty minutes. We're scouring the jewelry vendors at the open air markets today. I'm a bit wary of wandering about Muggle Luxor, but I'm told that the Muggles here quite often have bits of magical jewelry that they aren't capable of recognizing for what it is. I am so very curious as to what might be found by those who know what to look for.

I'll write to you again soon.

All my best,

Clio

. . .

Clio,

You're going around Muggle Luxor with some American boy you've only just met, who is apparently "volunteering" to show you around and buying you desserts? I don't think I like this. In fact, I know I don't. You can't trust him.

Write me back and tell me you'll not go anywhere with him again.

Sirius

. . .

Clio,

Sirius is right. As a teenage boy myself, I can assure you that teenage boys are not to be trusted!

James

. . .

Dear Pompous Arses,

I will do no such thing! I'm not about to distance myself from one of the few co-workers of similar interest and age to myself that I have. Honestly, how stupid would I have to be to not cultivate amiable relationships with likely future business peers just because you two have a "bad feeling."

Clio

. . .

Dear Clio "Harpy" Harper,

It is not my fault that you are clearly making poor choices. Trust me! I know exactly what he's doing and it's not good! He's not just being nice to you, Clio, he's picking up on you. "Volunteering" my arse!

Write me back and tell me you will not see him anymore!

Sirius

. . .

Clio,

Boys don't take girls out for dessert unless they're angling for something to happen _after_ dessert. It's just a fact. Consider that time I took you to Honeydukes as evidence. _I'M RIGHT!_ You should be used to that by now, really, seeing as I'm always right. Ha Ha!

James

. . .

Dear Sirius Psychotic Black,

I'm not "seeing" him. He's just being friendly and I'm certain you're reading considerably more into this than there is to see.

Write me back when you've regrown your brain.

Clio

P.S. Tell James that not every boy is like him.

. . .

Dear Oblivious One,

You may not be "seeing" him, but he is seeing you. Have you checked your tent for peep holes? He was picking up on you. You're just not seeing it.

I'm not taking the mickey or being intentionally difficult. I don't trust this bloke. Write me back and tell me you won't go anywhere with him anymore.

Sirius

P.S. James is shouting that every boy _is_ like him, at least in this regard. But he's in a strop at the moment and just broke his quill so he won't be writing anytime soon.

. . .

Sirius,

I'm not continuing this conversation with you. He is my co-worker and I'm not about alienate him just because you can't seem to fathom the idea of someone being nice without having some designs beyond what's appropriate.

You may not trust him, but you should trust me. I'm a Slytherin. I'm not there by accident and I'm not some helpless little girl. And what if he did have an interest in me? Would that be so completely horrible? It's not as though I'd allow anything to come of it. I'm perfectly capable of turning boys down. But that's beside the point, because he is my peer and coworker and BEING FRIENDLY and that's all.

Clio

P.S. Please give the attached quill to James, since he's apparently in need of a new one (you boys couldn't share?).

. . .

Clio,

Are you being thick on purpose? If you are, this is a brill prank. If not, I might beat my head against the wall in frustration.

James

P.S. This is a really nice quill...

. . .

James,

I'm not being thick; I'm being realistic. Do go ahead and beat your head against the wall if you think it will help. At the very least it might flatten your hair out a bit.

Clio

. . .

Clio,

I am going to do you a favour by telling you when you're wrong and right now, you're wrong. I do trust you, it's this American bloke I don't trust. And you are going to need to trust _me_ on this too. Let's not forget who you're talking to. If there was anyone who knew all about hitting on women, it would be me. So when I say he's hitting on you, he is.

Please, just promise me you will watch your back with this Billy person.

Sirius

. . .

I'm a Slytherin. I always watch my back.

C.

 

* * *

 

"Did she just-?"

"She did. Of all the stupid-"

"Obstinate, don't forget obstinate."

"...Your mum make you do crosswords with her this morning, mate?"

"Shuddup. It's a good word. And accurate! ...Also, yes."

"Okay, well... obstinate. And stubborn!"

"Obstinate and stubborn are the same thing, Sirius."

"Well it's just doubly true then, isn't it?"

"Right! That's valid. She's being stupid and obstinate and stubborn... and she always said she _liked_ my hair like this."

"Really, Prongs? Clio may at this very moment be being taken advantage of by a shifty American bloke who thinks she has a cute accent and you're worried about how your ex-girlfriend liked your hair?"

"...she was never my girlfriend."

"Yeah... sure. Well, whatever you want to call her, I think she needs our help."

"She does. She definitely does. What if the hair comment was a code? She loved my hair all shaggy! Maybe she's telling us she needs help."

"That is... a distinct possibility."

"She doesn't have any choice but to resort to writing us in code! She's a continent away with no one to turn to!"

"And some bloke's buying her _dessert_."

"Pfft, _dessert_. Oldest trick in the book."

"It is. Right up there with going jewelry shopping."

"No man in the world goes jewelry shopping without an agenda."

"This is a fact."

"Well, Sirius, there's nothing for it, then. Is there? If she won't listen to reason..."

"We have to go to Egypt."

"We do. It's what Derrick Wandsworthy would do."

"...Maybe we don't tell her that part when we get there."

This was how Sirius Black and James Potter found themselves in the International Floo Office arguing with a clerk over rigorously enforced security measures and how important they could possibly be. It took precisely four minutes, a hundred galleons and a diatribe from Sirius about the importance of the eldest son of the House of Black reaching his destination in a timely manner for the two of them to get past the ministry's strictest transportation rules. While it was entirely to their benefit that things worked out this way, later on both boys would reflect that it was a bit frightening that all it took was a small bribe and a temper tantrum by two teenagers to get a ministry official to ignore security laws.

International floos were long. Longer than local ones by quite a bit. It was a solid five minutes before the world stopped zipping by in a blur of colors and Sirius was honestly incredibly proud of himself for not puking the moment his feet set down. James followed a moment later and promptly fell over, unable to keep his balance.

"Ugh, blimey," James groaned.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, still trying to get the world to stop spinning but standing stock still in spite of his dizziness.

"Know what the worst thing in the world is?" James questioned, looking a little green and swaying slightly from where he was sitting.

"We have to do that again to go home?" Sirius asked.

"We have to do that again to go home," James confirmed.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, finally feeling stable enough to take a look around.

Clio hadn't been lying when she'd said it was hot. It was sweltering and Sirius found himself wishing that he'd had the foresight to leave his leather jacket at home or … pack anything.

Owing no doubt to a probable lack of fireplaces in Egypt, he and James had flooed into a large fire pit that was likely also used for cooking. There were a few wooden chairs off to the side and the whole thing was surrounded by a short stone wall. They were smack in the middle of the thing.

"James, I think you're sitting in ashes, mate," Sirius told him, smothering a smile as his friend surveyed their situation.

"Oh bollocks!" James groaned, standing up and dusting himself off as best he could. "Stupid international floo! Do you think that bint at the office made this worse than it had to be on purpose?"

"I wouldn't put it past her, mate," Sirius confided. "She seemed pretty upset when you called her a - what was it you called her again?"

"A mindless minion of the government, keeping upstanding young blokes from venturing forth to rescue fair maidens from dastardly Americans?" James asked.

"Yeah, that," Sirius said, laughing shortly.

"It was going to work," James insisted.

"It really wasn't," Sirius informed him.

"Her accent was American, wasn't it?" James asked.

"Yeah, pretty sure," Sirius confirmed.

"Bollocks," James muttered. "So where exactly do you think we are, then?"

They were indoors, which made Sirius wonder how hot it was outside if it was this stifling inside. There were a few displays along the wall, mostly behind glass panes and some with velvet ropes cordoning them off. He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow a little. Was this a museum? Was it _the_ museum? That would be... incredibly lucky.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius spotted a sign hanging in the hall through the doorway. The gift shop, apparently, was somewhere to his right, the Old Kingdom and pre-Dynastic exhibits to his left. James spotted it only seconds later, his eyes widening in surprise behind his thick glasses.

"Padfoot, you don't think-"

"Yeah, Prongs, I do."

"Well that's weirdly fortunate."

"Come on. Start looking for an employees only sign."

They found her a lot faster than either one of them would have anticipated if they'd stopped to actually consider the logistics of what they were doing. They ran into no one and ten minutes and two _alohamora_ 'ed locks later, they opened a door to find Clio's small, slender frame leaning over a work table staring with deep concentration at some very old looking piece of jewelry. She huffed in annoyance without turning away from her work.

"Billy, if you came back without food to give more backhanded compliments about how my skin isn't pasty like most Brits, I think I'm just going to hex you," she said frustratedly, still not turning around to see who had walked in.

James dropped the bag he'd hastily packed for the both of them and she finally turned at the sound, making an odd little squeaking noise and her eyes widening comically at the sight of them.

"I'll be happy to hex him for you," James offered. "Why exactly is Mr. Co-worker commenting about your skin?"

"What are you _wearing_?" Sirius asked in a somewhat horrified tone.

"You came halfway across the world to criticize my wardrobe?" she asked in a huff, folding her arms in front of her and looking nothing like the relieved and grateful damsel-in-distress they had somehow convinced themselves they'd find.

Really, they should have known better.

"Well I would have come sooner if I'd realised you were dressing like a Bond girl," Sirius replied shortly.

James couldn't help but laugh loudly at that, but Sirius really wasn't amused. What in the hell was she thinking wearing shorts and a tank top. It was just indecent, really. No wonder she had this Billy character taking her for dessert and shopping for jewelry.

"I have no idea what that is but I suspect I'm insulted," she replied, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Merlin, you're such a pureblood," James said, still laughing.

"...Thank you?" she asked, looking no less annoyed.

"It really wasn't a compliment," James replied grinning.

"I beg to differ," she said in a clipped tone.

"Can't you put on a jumper or, you know, pants?" Sirius asked uncomfortably.

She stared at him agog for a moment as James started laughing uproariously again. And, seriously James? It wasn't actually that funny.

"I'm not working in my knickers, Sirius," she replied, giving him the momentary mental image of her doing just that and making him all the more uncomfortable at the thought. "It's knee-length shorts and a t-shirt. I doubt even my father would complain."

"You see, it's like we're your brothers or something, Clio," James told her in a lofty tone. "Well, not _your_ brothers on account of we're far more dashing and far less violent prats. But we're protective. We just want to keep you safe and dessert-less."

James' point of view on the whole thing - which was incredibly ironic given his history with Clio - was not exactly the same angle Sirius was finding that he was coming from on this. In fact, it was wholly different. This was Clio. His friend, Clio. James' ex-whatever, Clio. And here she was in shorts and a tight shirt with a messy ponytail and a light sheen of sweat across her body looking like she'd just been thoroughly shagged. He could completely see why the American had been commenting on her skin, wide expanses of it drawing his attention against his will. And _why_ was it drawing his attention. This was a problem.

"James... Sirius... I adore you both. You know this. And, in spite of your incredibly brazen idiocy today, I continue to adore you. But I don't need _or want_ bodyguards _or_ clothing police!" she told them, moving to stand toe-to-toe with Sirius and leveling a defiant gaze at him. "And anyhow, you being this much of a prude is kind of ridiculous isn't it?"

James grinned hugely at that and looked at his best friend. "She's got you there, mate."

"You're not Allison Wintringham. And you're not Ferryn King. You're Clio Harper and right now? Right now, you're screwing with my worldview," he told her bluntly.

Merlin was that ever true.

"Well, sorry for ruining your private version of reality, Sirius. But I am, in fact, a girl. And since I'd rather not die of heat stroke, I'm not about to layer with dress robes," she said sharply.

"Speaking of heat stroke," she continued, "you're going to pass out in that leather jacket."

She reached up and slid her fingers under the collar of his jacket, helping him work it off. And _fuck_ why was she undressing him? Right. Heat stroke. Whatever. This was kind of invasive and... tingly. She must have had some residual bits of ancient magic on her fingers from that piece of jewelry she'd been working on because his skin felt weirdly alive where her fingers brushed against his neck. He staunchly ignored the strange sensation and instead enjoyed as the temperature went from boiling to smothering as she helped him remove his jacket.

"Don't look at me," James said to Clio, smirking as he ruffled his hair a little. "I actually read your letters and didn't dress for autumn in Scotland."

"Prat," Sirius muttered at his traitorous friend without any malice behind the word.

Despite how badly they'd worked themselves up over Clio, she was in one piece and apparently none the worse for wear. It was a relief, maybe a bigger one than he'd anticipated, and he found his mood shifting drastically in spite of his earlier frustrations. He picked her up and hugged her, swinging her around as she laughed in surprise.

"I can't believe you two are here," she said, as he lowered her back to the ground. "How did you get your mum and dad to let you out of the country?"

Well... that was a thought. In their haste, they'd not even bothered to notify Dorea and Charlus Potter that they were leaving the country, much less ask permission. Speed had seemed necessary at the time, what with Clio being accosted by a dangerous foreigner and all, but in hindsight he was pretty sure Mrs. Potter was going to be livid.

"Uh..." James started, the same thoughts obviously running through his head, but he was interrupted by heavy footsteps and a voice echoing through the corridor as someone approached.

"Hey sugar, they were out of that one thing you like with the lamb so I got you the pork. I hope that's alrig- … Hello."

Yeah. They'd been so right. Totally justified. Consequences be damned.

It had to be Billy. From the accent, the cowboy boots, the _sugar_ comment... they'd been dead on. This bloke was trying to get in Clio's skirt. Er... shorts. This was Not Okay. The temperature in the room seemed to rise instantly and Sirius felt his fingers curl around his wand tightly as his muscles tensed in reaction to the other boy's presence.

" _What_ did you call her?" Sirius asked lowly.

Glancing briefly to his side, he found James' stance and expression mirrored his own. Good. He wasn't overreacting. Or, at least, not excessively so. Clio groaned from behind him and he could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"I didn't mean any disrespect," the American said, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"Then it'd be best to actually not be disrespectful," James replied sharply.

"Just leave it alone," Clio insisted in a lowered voice. "It's really not that big a deal."

Neither Sirius nor James were dissuaded though, the boys glancing at each other as if to confirm their plan of action with no words.

"Billy," Clio said, changing tactics and moving slightly in front of the boys with a hand on James' arm. "This is James and that's Sirius. The two I write to back home. They've just... well they've got this crazy notion in their heads that you... that you fancy me or something."

Sirius' eyes narrowed at the other boy as he actually blushed a little and scuffed his boot against the floor. And, seriously? Who did that? It wasn't even a good act. Sodding conman.

Clio blanched a little even before Billy spoke and looked more than a little mortified at the situation she found herself in. Served her right, really, after all her protests that this Billy character wasn't interested in her.

"Well, I've got to admit to being a bit sweet on you, really," he said, half-shrugging in a way he must have mistakenly thought to be endearing. "I wouldn't have done anything about it though if I'd known you were taken."

"She is," James said quickly, obviously without thinking, and for half a second Sirius thought that James and Clio were finally going to get over this long-standing off-again phase right here, right now. It was an oddly disappointing thought.

"She's with Sirius," he finished.

"Uhhh," Sirius said ungracefully, barely hearing James whisper a " _he'll leave you alone if he thinks you're with someone"_ and Clio reply just as quietly " _you're being ridiculous._ "

James shot Sirius a hard look that plainly said he ought to be doing something. Somewhat woodenly, he took a half step closer to Clio and draped an arm around her. She tensed up under his fingers, her bare shoulder under his hand. Strained as it was, it still felt weirdly right and he cursed his own pulse for racing a little at the touch of her skin.

This was so freaking disasterous.

"Missed her too much to stay away all summer," Sirius said through gritted teeth, momentarily hating his best mate for putting him in this position. "You understand."

James muttered something under his breath to Clio about her judgement clearly being off and this being necessary, which apparently she decided was fair because she didn't contradict them. But, neither did she look at all at ease. She sure as hell didn't look like a girl whose boyfriend had just travelled across the whole of Europe to see her.

"Yeah..." Billy said, eyeing them all and looking generally unconvinced.

Well, shit. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that right?

"You've got work to do and we should let you get to it," Sirius said, looking at Clio. "We'll see you back at your tent in a bit."

Then he did the stupidest thing he'd done all day - which was saying a lot.

He kissed her.

A peck probably would have sufficed, driven the point home to Billy. But he was Sirius Black and he was incapable of doing things halfway. He pulled her flush against him and kissed her hard, one hand tangled in her ponytail and the other palm flat against the small of her back. She squeaked a little, but didn't push him away.

For a couple of seconds, all the reasons for the facade evaporated and he just enjoyed the feel of a girl, of _this_ girl, pressed against him, her lips against his. After a second, the stiffness in her frame faded and she just kind of melted against him, lips parting a little against his and a little choked noise in the back of her throat. Damned if that wasn't an ego-boost. As if he needed one.

Reality set in slowly as the kiss ended and he backed up a step. She was looking at him in a stunned, dazed kind of way, blush high on her cheeks as she licked her lips quickly. And _fuck_ why was that the most erotic thing he'd ever seen? Merlin but he was a prat. Approximately five minutes after realizing one of his closest friends was a girl he was making out with her under totally false pretenses. Worse yet, he had just made out with James' ex _in front of James._

He glanced over at the other boy to gauge his friend's reaction only to find his mate barely keeping himself from collapsing in hysterical laughter. James' eyes danced in amusement, like he'd just had a prank go incredibly right. And, in a way, Sirius supposed he had. Or - at least - he _thought_ it had. Thank Godric for small favours, then.

"I'll see you later," Clio said, squeezing his arm before backing up several steps and putting much-needed distance between them.

"Right," Sirius replied, wondering if it was his imagination or if his voice was as worn-sounding as hers.

James grabbed his rucksack and gestured with his head which way they ought to go. Sirius couldn't help but bump into Billy on their way past him. Of course... then he got to wondering if maybe he wasn't even worse than Billy. At least Billy had been up front about things. And Sirius... Sirius had come all this way just to keep some boy from accosting Clio while she was oblivious to it and then he'd gone and snogged her madly... while she was oblivious to half of the reason why.

"That was _brilliant_!" James declared, laughing uncontrollably and clapping his mate on the shoulder as soon as they got outdoors. "Did you see the look on his face?"

No. No, he hadn't. He'd been far too distracted by taking in exactly what Clio looked like after being thoroughly snogged. Even now, the image was burned into the back of his eyelids every time he blinked. Sirius suddenly felt more sick to his stomach than he had after the damn international floo.

"Yeah," he said dryly, refusing to look at his friend and wishing he could restart his whole damned day. "Brilliant."

 

* * *

 

No one threw a party like the Gryffindor boys. This was undisputed _fact_. Since the inception of James Potter's New Year's Eve party in third year - a comparatively small and sober affair - anyone and everyone who went to Hogwarts wanted to be at the Potter's house in Devon to ring in the New Year. Most of their schoolmates from fourth years to seventh years, barring the vast majority of Slytherin and prats in general, had gotten an invite. And no one, _no one_ elected not to go.

Every New Year's Eve, Dorea and Charlus Potter went on a short holiday by themselves. It was a longstanding tradition - one that predated James by a lot - and an extremely useful one for teenage boys looking to throw a monstrous party.

There was stunningly large supply of liquor - this year a different type in every room - and very loud music and broom closets aplenty that were somehow blessed with silencing charms despite the party's hosts being underage (none of the Marauders would ever disclose how they did it, but in truth the Potter's aged house elf, the aptly named Elphy, had a soft spot for James and a mischievous nature). And, come midnight, there were indoor fireworks that shot across the ceiling with lewd or Hogwarts themed bursts of colour.

It was an epic event. It was _the_ event. And it took months of planning to pull it off. Still, it was worth it. As worth it as any prank they'd ever pulled (well, except that time they'd slipped a potion into Snape's pumpkin juice that had made him serenade Filch with a Celestina Warbeck song . Nothing was going to top that).

"Bloody amazing, Remus," Sirius said, grinning in delight and awe as a tray of something intoxicating hovered past him and he snagged a glass. "How are we ever going to top this next year?"

"We'll come up with something," Remus said, waving at Maura who was across the room gesturing far too broadly to be sober as she talked to Rona MacDonald.

"Strippers," Sirius said suddenly, eyes lighting up at the thought. "Strippers would top this year."

Remus looked at him and blinked rapidly but said nothing.

"What? They totally would," Sirius said defensively.

"Your girlfriend would love that," Remus pointed out.

"Hell, _my_ girlfriend would probably join in," Sirius grinned broadly, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Remus shrugged a little, tacitly admitting the truth in that statement and Sirius laughed loudly in response. Stella Gardner was a lot of things - artistic, possibly crazy, rabidly political - but reserved had never, _ever_ been one of them. That had been a huge part of her appeal. Well... that and the fact that she wasn't Clio. Last summer, he'd come back from Egypt approximately an hour after having arrived there, he and James literally dragged back home by their ears by Mrs. Potter. But that hour... that single sodding hour had somehow changed everything. He couldn't bloody stop _thinking_ about her, the way that tank top clung to her chest, the way her cheeks flushed after he kissed her. It was driving him _mad_. And it wasn't fair! She was James' girl, even if he wasn't with her right now, and even if she wasn't, things would have been awfully complicated between them. So, yeah. He wanted her. He knew that. But he also couldn't have her. He knew that, too. So... he went for the next best thing - a girl as opposite from Clio Harper as could possibly be found.

"Actually..." Remus said thoughtfully. " _Your_ girlfriend would probably make _you_ join in. Gender parity and all that."

"I'm fine with that, too," Sirius smirked. "I could use the tips."

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was was suddenly drowned out entirely by the very magnified voice of one James Potter.

"CODE PARENT. ATTENTION PARTY-GOERS. WE HAVE A CODE PARENT. PLEASE VACATE THE PREMISES IN A SPEEDY AND SAFE MANNER. THANK YOU."

Suddenly, the perfect party was in a perfect state of mayhem. Students were running, going for floos or windows. The few that were of age apparated out and he saw at least one very crafty fourth year grab a broom - a cleaning broom, mind you - and try to take flight.

"The Potters are back?" A familiar girl's voice asked, breaking his reflection on just how fast things could change.

"Sounds like," Sirius said, turning around to find Clio standing in the hallway a few meters away.

Dorea Potter's unmistakable voice was raised in indignation at her only child's brazenness. And, loud as it was, Sirius was still pretty sure he could hear Charlus Potter poorly smothering his laughter from somewhere downstairs.

"Fantastic," Clio sighed, shoulders sagging as she leaned against the wall. And... what the hell? Clio didn't _lean_. Clio was composed and self-sure and arrogant.

"She's going to kill me," Clio said, laughing in a way that sounded a lot like a hysterical giggle, which was also wholly out of place and left Sirius wondering if someone had polyjuiced themself to look like Clio. "She sodding hates me already. I'm this... this _trollop_ who corrupted her little angel and somehow enticed the both of you to run away to Egypt without telling her and now I'm bloody underage and drunk in her house."

Oooooooh. That explained the leaning then. And the giggling, for that matter.

"Yeah... we've got to get you to a floo," Remus said suddenly, reminding Sirius sharply of his friend's presence.

"She can't floo home," Sirius replied as Clio nodded too loosely in agreement. "Her family will bloody kill her and then come after us."

"Partying with blood-traitors is definitely against the house rules," Clio agreed. "Half-bloods, too. And muggleborns."

"Don't you have a friend's you could floo to?" Remus asked.

"Pfft, none who wouldn't tell my parents," she replied.

"Great friends," Remus said dryly.

"We don't have time for this," Sirius said, making a split-second decision as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

He guided her slightly down the hall at a brusque pace before opening a door and urging her inside.

"Hide here," he told her authoritatively, brushing away a bit of hair that was stuck to the side of her mouth as he spoke. "And don't make a noise."

He and Remus were as done for as James and Peter. They were supposed to be here. James' parents _knew_ they were here. But Clio didn't have to take the fall with them. Hiding her in his room wasn't a perfect plan. But, hey, it was a plan and they were short on time.

He locked the door behind him, her on the other side, and turned to look at Remus who was eyeing him with a look he didn't like.

"What?" Sirius asked confrontationally.

"Nothing," Remus said shaking his head. "Nothing at all."

"Whatever," Sirius grumbled, suddenly in a rotten mood.

He wasn't drunk, hadn't even gotten in a good snog before the party was busted up, was certainly about to be thoroughly berated by Mrs. Potter, had Clio Harper hidden away in his room and had Remus shooting off looks that implied he knew something he _clearly didn't_. Any one of those things might have soured his outlook. All of them combined had thoroughly shot his good mood.

Stomping down the stairs in a totally disgruntled way, his footsteps heavy and rebelliously loud, Sirius entered the main foyer with Remus trailing closely behind (and significantly more quietly).

"Ah, the partners-in-crime," Dorea Potter pronounced upon their arrival, her arms crossed and outlook stern. "You ought to be smiling, Sirius, it's a party... apparently."

"It _was_ a party," he corrected with a disingenuous smile. "Now it's house arrest."

"Well, it's nice to see _one_ of you has an appreciation for how much trouble you're in," Mrs. Potter said sharply, glancing toward a still-grinning-hopefully James.

Charm and his status as their only, beloved child wasn't going to save James some punishment on this one.

"Floo me when the warden lets you out," a voice said suddenly, and Sirius was startled to find his girlfriend hadn't fled with the vast majority of the Hogwarts population. "Though I doubt you'll be getting out early for good behaviour, so maybe I'll just see you back at school."

Stella closed the few feet between them and gave him a not-terribly-swift kiss as Mrs. Potter cleared her throat loudly.

"Was fun while it lasted boys," she said. "See you later."

With that, she apparated out. Yeah... he was _so_ getting his license as soon as they offered the test.

"Charming girl," Mrs. Potter said dryly.

Sirius shrugged in reply. People either got Stella or didn't. There was no middle ground. She was temperamental, bucked authority at every turn and outspoken to the point where he sometimes wondered how her voice never seemed to go hoarse. He liked Stella. He _adored_ Dorea Potter. But he'd certainly never expected the two of them to get along.

"Now... about your punishment for all of this," Mrs. Potter said, waving her arm loftily.

Hell. Had they really made _that_ much of a mess? In their haste to escape parental notification of their escapades, most of partygoers had dropped whatever they'd been doing immediately. Literally. Cups were spilled, things had broken, food had been stepped on. It was pretty awful.

That was when James started giggling. Not laughing, mind you, _giggling_. Madly and loudly. Hard enough that there were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"James Ignacio Potter! This is not funny!" Mrs. Potter protested.

"'S kinda funny. If ya think about it," James slurred.

Mrs. Potter's eyes widened hugely and Remus slapped his own hand to his forehead.

"Are you... _young man_... are you _drunk_?" Mrs. Potter breathed in a quiet anger.

James just laughed harder and even Peter groaned and rolled his eyes.

In retrospect, Sirius would decide that James being drunk was the reason for at least two of the four hours Mrs. Potter made the four of them clean her house. Without magic. Until about three in the morning.

By the time Mr. Potter (bless that man) insisted that Mrs. Potter let the boys off the hook for the night, Sirius was grimy and bone-tired. He took the fastest shower in the history of showers just to get the sheen of stale cheap alcohol and general filth off his skin before making his way back to his room, desperate for the comfort of his own bed.

To be honest, he'd totally forgotten about Clio.

He just stood there in his own doorway for a long moment, blinking because the picture in front of him didn't make sense (well, unless he was already asleep and then it made far too much sense). Clio was fast asleep on his bed, inky hair splayed across his pillow and her dress inched up higher than he really ought to be seeing.

He groaned in sheer frustration. It was kind of amazing how much he simultaneously loved and hated his life right in that moment.

Really, he should wake her up, find a way to get her home before the Potters could get wind of her being there or her parents noticed her missing. But - damn - he was so freaking tired. There was no way in the world he was capable of coming up with a plan at three in the morning. It would be easier after sleep. When she was sober and he was awake.

Settling on sleeping was a relatively easy choice. _Where_ to sleep was a lot harder. If he kipped on the sofa downstairs or even in the guest room, he'd probably get found out and that would be a hell of a thing to explain. Really, he ought to just sleep on the floor. But he was sore and exhausted and he needed a good night's sleep kind of desperately.

Besides... it was his sodding bed.

Ignoring a vaguely guilty feeling sitting in his chest, he crawled into bed next to her, under the covers. He was asleep moments later, in spite of the unsettling presence of the girl next to him.

Too few hours later, after several fantastic dreams that he was grateful not to remember with any clarity, Sirius awoke in a bit of a fog. His right side was abnormally warm and... kind of smothered?

He prised his eyes open and shifted a little before turning his gaze down toward his too-warm side. Somewhere during the night, Clio had found her way under the covers with him. She had an arm wrapped around his chest, her face was _snuggled_ up against his neck and she had one leg draped across his thigh.

He had to get out of there. Immediately.

Slowly, trying his damnedest not to wake her, Sirius fought to extract himself from her sleeping form, lifting her arm off his mid-section and pulling his leg out from underneath hers. But in her sleep, she made a little noise, curled up tighter against him and let out a little contented sigh against the skin of his neck.

_Oh Merlin, NO!_

It was the sigh that had done it. Well, no, that wasn't true. He would have had this problem anyhow. _All_ men had this problem in the morning. There were even limericks about it and metaphors and nicknames. His current issue had absolutely nothing to do with the girl attached to his chest, he decided as the last tingles of her breath left prickles along his neck.

_Okay. This is okay._

He silently counted to ten and waited for the traitorous part of his body to stop overreacting to the situation. Because that was all it was. An overreaction.

Again he shifted slightly, slowly, managing to make it several inches closer to the edge of the mattress before she once again snuggled closer, an arm drifting up so her fingers settled along his collarbone.

_Fuck_.

And just then, just when it seemed like things couldn't possibly get worse, she opened her eyes.

"Er... hi," he said, feeling as awkward as he probably sounded.

Her eyes looked about the biggest he'd ever seen them as she untangled herself from him in what had to be record speed and jumped out of the bed, her olive complexion going about ten different shades of red in as many seconds.

"Um..." she said, eyes darting around, the look of panic on her face calming down slightly as she glanced down to find herself still fully clothed.

That was... interesting. He pulled the coverlet back and stood up too, putting the bed as a buffer between them.

"I came back from _four hours_ of cleaning, as tired as I've ever been in my whole life, to find you passed out on my bed," he said, sounding a little apologetic.

And... what the hell? It was his bed!

"You know, if you wanted to sleep with me that badly, you could have just said so," he grinned, winking at her for good measure.

She groaned and rolled her eyes.

"You're ridiculous," she told him.

"Says the girl who went to a completely forbidden party with no way home," Sirius pointed out. "Who then passed out on her male friend's bed. Thank goodness no one saw you. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

Yes. Humour was definitely the way to go this morning.

"I did have a way home," she said, her voice gritty from sleep and an abundance of alcohol the night before. "It just left with Chara Gamp the moment James called out 'Code Parent.'"

Interesting. His estranged little brother's girlfriend had been at their party? At James' house? He would have to make sure _that_ got back to Regulus.

"Portkey?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," she replied, running her fingers through her mussed hair. "And I can't floo and risk being seen or I'm done for."

All three of her older brothers had well-earned reputations for flying off the handle and her mother was just plain terrifying. Sirius had long suspected that if none of her family were death eaters, some of them would be in the near future. Her father might be more interested in profits than purity, but the same could not be said for her mother or two out of her three brothers. It would be bad enough if they found out she'd been at a party at a blood traitor's house. It would be ten times worse if they caught wind that she'd spent the night there, no matter how innocuous it really was.

"You have a lovely family. Have I told you that lately?" Sirius asked dryly.

She didn't reply but sighed and sat heavily on the bed, her shoulders drooping a little. It was a sad picture and a huge part of him wanted to sit next to her, put his arm around her, try to make it better. Considering how the morning had started, however, he figured that probably wasn't the best plan.

"Look, I'll get you home," he said with utter resolve.

"How?" she asked, looking up at him with those big hazel eyes. "I live in Hertfordshire. We're in Devon."

"I'll drive you," he said as soon as the idea occurred to him.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea. Even in good weather it would be a two hour flight - each way - and she'd be clinging to him on the back of his motorcycle the whole way. Okay. Definitely it wasn't the best idea. But absent any other obvious options, he kind of had to go with it.

"Drive me?" she asked. "To Hertfordshire. On your motorcycle."

"Sure," he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Why not?"

"Aren't you grounded?" She asked. "I mean, I just figured, after last night..."

"Well... technically we didn't get into punishment beyond cleaning last night yet, though I'm sure that's coming," Sirius admitted. "But, if we leave now it's early enough that the Potters aren't likely to wake up before I get back, considering they were up as late as we were. And even if they did wake up and find me gone, they're considerably less likely to start tossing around hexes than your parents are."

She chewed the side of her lip adorably as she thought it over and for a long minute the only thing he had to do was stare at her. She was all rumpled in her dress with bare feet and a fresh face, having apparently had the presence of mind to wash off what little makeup she wore the night before. Her hair was a mess and she still had creases along her cheek from his shirt and she was sitting on _his bed_. And shit but that made for an oddly attractive picture.

This was fucked up. She was James' girl. He _had_ a girlfriend. He should absolutely not want to drag her back under the covers.

"Unless you've got a better plan, we really need to get moving," he told her finally, needing the situation to move forward or backward or _anything_ other than stagnate.

"Yeah," she relented finally. "Okay. But I can't fly in _this_."

She gestured toward her dress, a pretty white gauzy thing that had been fine indoors for a crowded party but would have her frostbitten if she flew across southern England in it in January.

He was pretty sure he had an outfit of Stella's in the bottom draw of his dresser, but he wasn't about to suggest she wear it. For one thing, Stella was a solid eight inches taller and significantly curvier than Clio. He was pretty sure his girlfriend's clothes would slip right off her frame. For another, suggesting it invited more questions and annoyance than it was worth. Clio and Stella had never gotten along.

"Elphy!" Sirius said in a stroke of brilliance, more announcing an idea than calling the Potter's house elf, but the little elf popped in front of him regardless.

"Master Sirius is needing Elphy?" the old elf asked eagerly.

"Yes," he said. "Elphy, I need you to find some clothes suitable for the weather outside for Clio here. And I need you to do it without letting anyone know she's here, understand?"

Elphy turned and appraised Clio, the pureblood girl instantly adopting a somewhat haughty look without even thinking about it. But then, that was Clio. Appearance was important to her. Status was important to her. She lived a lot of her life concerned with the propriety and formalities that he'd always eschewed. But with him... with him that kind of fell away. He hadn't realised how much until she slipped back into form under Elphy's appraisal.

"Elphy is havings the perfect solution, Master Sirius," Elphy said proudly. "Elphy will be beings right back."

The little elf disappeared instantly from the room only to pop back in the same exact place seconds later with a small pile of folded clothes in his hand and a proud smile upon his face.

"Wait a minute, those are mine," Clio said in great surprise, grabbing the clothes.

"Elphy is findings Miss Clio Harper's things in Master James' room last summer," the elf told her proudly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow suggestively at Clio, half because it was always fun to take the mickey and half because it made for a great cover. Clio and James had been, as far as he knew, solidly in this long off-again phase all of last summer. He didn't want to think about how her clothes had ended up in James' room.

"You're such a pervert. I changed in James' room after we played Quidditch the week before I went to Egypt," she told him.

And indeed, the clothes she was now holding were a pair of sweatpants and Falmouth Falcons quidditch kit.

"I object to your slanderous accusation," he told her loftily. "I am a complete gentleman."

She shot him a well-earned disbelieving look and he smirked back.

"Besides," he grinned. "I didn't say a word. You were the one to interpret that my thoughts were dirty... pervert."

She flushed prettily and swatted at him with the sweatpants in her hand, which he made to block as if it might actually hurt him. When the hell had this turned flirty? Okay, probably it was around the time he'd locked her in his bedroom, to be honest. But he hadn't meant it to be. Hell, he went out of his way routinely to make sure their relationship was totally platonic despite the fact that an increasing part of him (and not the part confined to his pants) really didn't want it to be.

"If your mind were any dirtier it would be infested with doxies!" she laughed, heading toward his loo.

As the door shut behind her, he couldn't help but think he'd never been quite so grateful for an en suite bath before. And considering how messy James routinely left their dorm bathroom back at Hogwarts, that was saying something.

She reentered his room a few moments later, just as he was shrugging a jacket on, looking a little uneasy and somewhat anxious. She was afraid of his motorcycle, he knew. In fact, she was generally wary of anything made by muggles. This was, of course, utterly ridiculous. But she was absent any other options and he wasn't about to point out for the umpteenth time that his bike had damn near the same charms on it as her broom did, so he hurried things along instead.

"I presume you don't want to risk sneaking downstairs, so I'll go grab my bike and meet you at the window," he told her, moving toward his door.

"Yes. Right," she nodded, pausing a beat before continuing. "Sirius? Thank you."

He nodded at her by way of acknowledgement, a sharp, wordless reply because he didn't trust himself right then. Any other time he might have teased her for her gratitude, for the honest openness etched into her features. This morning, he didn't have the energy to affectionately taunt he while masking exactly how much affection there really was.

The ride itself was long but mostly smooth. They hit a patch of weather near Andover that they had to fly above, but other than that it was a surprisingly crisp, clear early morning. The rising sun reflected brilliantly against a carpet of freshly fallen snow, a blindingly bright white blanket beneath them. And by the time they landed in Tring Park near her home, he didn't care much that he'd barely slept or his nose and fingers were numbed from the cold. It was a picture-perfect morning and, after the her initial tension had worn off, Clio had spent the better part of two hours with her arms wrapped around him and her cheek pressed against his back.

There was no one in sight when he parked his bike and hopped off, offering her a hand down. That was, of course, a necessity, given he'd been _flying a motorcycle_. But it somehow gave the moment a romantic feel that it didn't deserve and he simultaneously loved and hated the ambiance.

"You know, it's been _years_ since I've been by your house. Maybe I should pop in, say hello to your mum," he mused jokingly. "Think she'd invite me to stay for tea?"

She rolled her eyes and shoved at his shoulder lightly.

"You're ridiculous," she pronounced correctly. "But I wouldn't mind the company as I walk that way?"

"Sure. Why not?" he asked. "I could use to stretch my legs before the ride back."

It was true, certainly. But it was also true that he wasn't going to leave her alone in the middle of a park just after daybreak. There was a war on, after all, and even though she was just about the furthest thing from a target he could think of, he still wasn't going to leave her out here by herself. Nevermind that he knew full well she went jogging alone every morning. That wasn't the point.

The snow crunched as they walked, compressing a few inches under the weight of their feet and leaving twin trails of footprints across the park. Had they been at Hogwarts, there would have been charms they could have cast to make their progress easier. But Sirius was in no hurry this morning and for once he found he didn't so much mind not being allowed to do magic.

"So..." Clio said suddenly, casting him a conspiratorial sideways glance. "How livid _was_ Mrs. Potter?"

"Oh..." he chortled with delight. "You have _no_ idea."

The air shifted and resettled, a quiet calm to quietly energized, as he began to recount James' drunken giggling and Dorea Potter's likeness to a Hungarian Horntail, practically breathing fire in her anger. Clio's grin split wide at his boisterous retelling and he found himself dragging the story out for her benefit. Or for the benefit of watching her laugh and smile, flushed cheeks and eyes alight.

Same thing.

Her step faltered suddenly, toe stubbing a branch or a rock buried in the snow, and his hand darted out to grasp her arm without even thinking about it. He yanked her back, kept her upright, inadvertently pulled her too many inches closer and well into his personal space.

Her breath caught mid-laugh, snow-white puffs of air suddenly no longer escaping from her lips, and her eyes locked with his two beats too long, frozen and open all at once.

She was usually so guarded, so very _careful_. But he'd accidentally caught her unawares. There were no haughty airs and no deflecting banter. Everything, _everything_ was written across her face, reflected in her eyes.

If he'd been less surprised he would have cracked a joke, brushed the moment off with some incredibly lewd comment. But, _Merlin_ , he hadn't seen this coming even a little.

Her eyes widened with something that looked an awful lot like terror and she gulped heavily, backing up a few steps with so much haste that he was honestly surprised she didn't trip all over again.

"I need to get home," she said stiltedly, features hardening as she spoke. "And you should get back. I... Thank you."

"I..." he started, not really having any idea how to complete any kind of a sentence at the moment.

It didn't matter, really, she'd already turned away and was hurrying across the park as fast as she possibly could, leaving a solitary trail of footprints in her wake. He stood there for a long moment, dumbstruck and watching the play of her long, dark hair ruffling in the breeze as she went.

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head a little, trying to clear his mind as she disappeared from sight around an outcropping of trees.

It had been one thing to navigate his own ill-placed attraction to her, his friend, his best mate's ex. It was another thing entirely to realize that attraction wasn't one-sided and was, apparently, equally unwanted on both sides.

_That_ he had no fucking clue how to deal with. None at all.

 

* * *

 

Considering the fact that gossip travelled faster than hexes around Hogwarts, it was kind of amazing that Sirius didn't hear about Lily kissing James from someone other than James himself. If he _had_ , he might have been more likely to believe it straight away. But he hadn't. Instead, he'd laughed heartily at his ridiculous best mate, slapped him on the back and said "Sure, Prongs. But that's old news. Didn't you hear that Flich proposed to the giant squid after lunch? I'm personally a little horrified about precisely what plans Filch might have for all those tentacles, but what happens in the Black Lake stays in the Black Lake, I guess."

It had taken a solid twenty minutes and Peter as a corroborating eye witness to convince Sirius that James was neither attempting to pull a very stupid prank nor had finally lost his mind completely.

In his defense, it had always seemed wildly unlikely that Lily would cave to James' self-proclaimed charm, but it seemed flat out impossible that she would _initiate_ a full-on snog with him in the middle of the hallway in front of the arithmancy classroom.

It didn't add up, didn't make sense in Sirius' head in the least. His best-working theory at the moment involved Lucretia Bulstrode and some polyjuice potion. Or maybe Snape's boggart. Hmmm... that idea had merit.

At any rate, he gave them two days at most and he was really, _really_ not looking forward to the epic moping that would most assuredly take place when Lily Evans quit playing tonsil quidditch with James and reverted back to her outspoken loathing of him. But that was a problem for another day. Right now James looked like he'd been hit with several dozen cheering charms at once and Sirius had other concerns.

It smelled like summer still, as he made his way outside, all green grasses with faint hints of humidity. It was early October but the leaves hadn't changed yet and there was no bite to the air. Sunlight bathed his face and blue skies stretched out across the whole span of the horizon. Summer held on tightly this year. Everyone seemed to be making the most of it, but they all knew it couldn't last much longer.

He'd sort of assumed that he'd find Clio running laps around the Quidditch Pitch or flying about alone on her broom, both safe bets when she wanted to avoid the world and wasn't hiding out in the solitude of her jewelry studio. He ought to know all her hiding places by now; they'd spent a lot of time over the last year paying a great deal of attention to avoiding things between them.

But, this time, he'd been wrong. He found her sitting beneath an old oak tree, a book on Ancient Runes balanced on her knees as she made notes on the scroll next to her.

"You know, they make spells that could hold that book up for you," he said by way of announcement, flopping casually down next to her. "I'm pretty sure you know one, even. Possibly got tested on it six years ago or so."

"Questioning my study methods?" she asked, glancing up from her book.

"Questioning why you bother studying it at all," he scoffed. "Have you ever gotten anything but an O in Ancient Runes?"

"No, because I _study_ for it," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him in amusement. "Amazing how that works, isn't it?"

"I deny that any relationship exists between marks and studying," he argued, wordlessly using his wand to lazily spin a pebble midair in front of him. "Furthermore, I offer myself up as evidence."

"Yes, well, we can't all be graced with the absurdly good memories and natural talents that you and James possess," she countered, nodding toward the rock.

"Hmm," he said, half in agreement and half to buy himself a second to think while he watched her.

"Speaking of James," he continued after a moment. "I heard quite the rumour earlier..."

"No one is ever going to buy that story you're spinning about Filch and the squid," she interrupted.

"How did you..." He puzzled.

"Pete found me a bit ago," she told him. "And frankly that bit about the tentacles is disgusting even for you."

"Why Miss Harper!" He protested with great mirth. "I only meant the squid could be such a help with mopping and dusting and... whatever else Filch does. What could _you_ have possibly had in mind?"

"Sure you did," she said dryly, shaking her head even as a spot of colour formed high on her cheeks.

He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, letting the pebble fall back to the ground and turning his attention to a blade of grass, picking it from the ground and tearing it in half. Even without watching her, he knew she was still watching him.

"I'm fine," she said after an uncharacteristically long moment of silence between them.

He glanced toward her and nodded cavalierly, as if it was good to know but not something he'd been asking about. Which was absurd because he'd pretty obviously sought her out to see how she was doing. Merlin, what a girl that made him seem like. All he needed was longer hair and a pair of tits. At least those would have been fun to play with...

"Flich will be most pleased that you harbor no jealousy over his attachment to the squid," he replied, feeling more like himself.

"If it gets back to James that she's being called a squid, I'm throwing you under the Knight Bus," Clio told him, smiling lightly but definitely meaning every word.

"Or relating him to Filch..." Sirius contemplated a moment. "Probably best that not get repeated?"

"Definitely," she agreed.

Somehow their gazes had locked on that single word and he found he couldn't make himself look away. They avoided this. Denied it. Put space both literal and figurative between themselves because of it. But there it was anyway, that heavy thing that lived in the space between them.

Even if James had moved on, now. Even if he still swore up and down that he and Clio had never really _dated_ in the first place. Sirius wasn't going to make a move on his best friend's ex-girlfriend. Nevermind that he'd given Remus express permission to do exactly the same thing with Maura. It wasn't something a Marauder ought to do to another.

"A lot's happened in two years," she said quietly, blinking her eyes as she turned back to the book in her lap. "I'm past everything with James. I've grown up, moved on."

"Yeah," he agreed, thudding his head against the tree and turning his gaze toward the last vestiges of the summer sky. "Yeah..."

 

* * *

 

Sirius had been in a miserable mood all week. NEWTs were less than a month away, which meant everyone was doing more studying and less everything else. And, suddenly, life felt like it was shifting beyond Hogwarts' walls. Everyone had _plans_ , were splitting up, moving away, and he hated it more than a little.

How could so many of his classmates be so thrilled about finishing school? It was _Hogwarts_. It was _brilliant_. And... and it was home. He didn't want to think about not tripping over James' quidditch gear in the mornings or Peter's smelly socks stinking up the dorm or Remus' snoring waking all of them up. He wanted secret passageways and the Black Lake and adventures in the forbidden forest and pranks on Slytherins and losing house points _because_ of those pranks.

But he couldn't keep those things, couldn't stop time and hold on and live in this place forever. James was talking about proposing to Lily, crazy wanker, and Pete was moving in with his grandmother to take care of her and Remus was sending out enough job applications that he really ought to just consider a career writing people's job applications and Clio... Clio had her own plans too. He wasn't happy about any of it.

Still, even as brilliant and inherently talented as he was, even Sirius had to face the truth and study a bit for NEWTs.

The library was packed, unsurprisingly, and Sirius was moody and sullen enough that he didn't want to deal with people. Plus, being seen studying might ruin some of the mystique of his well-known brilliance and hard-earned reputation as an irresponsible layabout. Sirius Black didn't study. He didn't have to. So, he grabbed the book he needed from the restricted section ("Theoretical Cross-Disciplines: Merging Potions and Transfiguration Without Explosions Or Disappearing Body Parts"), and wandered over to the only near-empty section of the library - the fiction section.

He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the Derrick Wandsworthy books - which he would so, _so_ much rather be reading - and cracked open the monstrous and ridiculously dry textbook, fighting a sneeze at the dust the ancient and rarely-used book kicked up.

"I wish you'd think more about it," a vaguely familiar girl's voice drifted from the aisle behind him, drawing his immediate attention.

Hey, it's not like the book was a page-turner, all right?

Another girl's voice sighed and it was far more familiar. _That_ voice he'd have put Wandsworthy down for.

"It's a great opportunity, Tia," Clio replied.

Right. Hestia Jones, then. Ravenclaw a year beneath them with amazing tits that Regulus had stared at for nearly the whole of his fourth and fifth years. Oh, and arguably Clio's best friend. Probably that had more to do with their conversation than the tits thing. Though, if it didn't... Oh, sidetracked brain.

"Besides," Clio continued, reluctantly drawing his attention back to their actual conversation and not the imagined one going on in his dirty, 18-year-old-boy's mind, "it's not like they don't have floos and owls. We can still keep in touch."

"Where are you going again?" Hestia questioned tiredly.

"Switzerland," Clio responded.

He'd already known that. She'd told him at the start of the week - right about the time his bad mood started, incidentally. But that didn't make it any easier to hear a second time.

"Appropriate," Tia snorted indelicately.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clio bristled, and Sirius could practically _see_ the haughty, guarded look he knew she'd be wearing.

"Neutral ground? You're the personification of Switzerland," Tia informed her, rather more boldly than Sirius would have expected from the younger witch.

Clio didn't say anything, but he'd bet some decent galleons that she was glowering loudly.

"It's almost poetic," Hestia ventured. "You go to so much trouble to keep out of the middle of things. Interhouse squabbles. The war. Your family's politics... those Gryffindor boys."

Sirius' ears perked up at this. It's not like he didn't already _know_ this. He did. But they never, _ever_ talked about it. Did she and her friends talk about it? Did they talk about _him_?

"Would you keep your voice down?" Clio hissed.

"It's not like I used a sonorous charm, Clio," the other girl chuckled. "And it's not like any of that is news to anyone."

"Yet another fabulous reason to leave," she argued with a bit of a huff.

"Clio," the younger girl counseled, her tone making her sound decades older all the sudden. "No one's saying you have to make any of those choices."

"Aren't they?" Clio volleyed back. "Isn't my brother Kottos when he runs off to marry a muggleborn and then invites me to dinner? Isn't my brother Briar when he suggests I avoid some particular shop only for me to see in the Profit the next morning that it was attacked by Death Eaters? Isn't my mother every time she tries to propose a _sensible_ match for me to a 'good Slytherin family'? I can't stay here and stay out of this and I can't stay here and stay away..."

"And stay away from Sirius?" Tia questioned curiously. "That's what you were thinking, isn't it?"

Sirius held his breath and knit his brow, simultaneously dying to know her answer and kind of hoping she wouldn't respond. If staying away from her last year when he'd been with Stella had been hard, keeping his distance from her this year when they were both single and James had moved on had been _brutal_.

"Harpers don't get involved with blood traitors, Tia," she responded finally. "It's dangerous enough to both of us being friends. And I won't... I can't... I'm moving to Switzerland."

"Oh, Clio," Tia sighed. "I'm pretty sure you're already there."

 

* * *

 

They'd owled each other. A lot. More than he'd expected, if he was being honest with himself. But he hadn't actually _seen_ her since they finished Hogwarts just over a year ago.

Still, his eyes found her almost instantly as he entered the church.

She sat eight pews back on the groom's side and he smiled broadly at her as she surreptitiously wiggled her fingers at him in a quiet, secretive wave.

"Eyes ahead, Black," the maid-of-honor smirked, muttering under her breath from his side. "Time enough for everything else at the reception."

"Cheers to that, McKinnon," he replied, dragging his eyes from Clio to the girl on his arm. "Save me a dance, yeah?"

"Right," she said, obviously holding in a laugh for the sake of decorum and propriety and everything else that Sirius didn't ever believe in except, apparently, at James' wedding, because he suddenly felt compelled to act like a grown-up.

Lily was stunning and James looked like he might pass out or maybe pinch himself (again) at any moment and everything went off without a hitch. Well... except for the hitch that was supposed to happen, of course.

Lily Potter... man, but that sounded weird.

The ceremony itself wasn't terribly long, probably owing to the fact that James' attention span was only slightly better than Sirius' and it would undoubtedly be very poor form and possibly a bad omen to yawn during one's own wedding. But as the guests rose and started moving toward the reception hall, Clio's slight form disappearing easily in the crowd, the photographer grabbed the wedding party for what felt like a few thousand more shots. It was Lily who finally told the photographer that they'd gotten enough pictures and Sirius would have kissed the new bride for it if that wasn't also very poor form and possibly a bad omen.

By the time he was free of best man duties - which awesomely included an obligatory speech about James' many, _many_ embarrassing attempts to woo Lily... muggle wedding customs were _awesome_ \- the party was in full swing. He spotted Clio laughing as Peter twirled her around the dance floor. Like everyone else, she was in muggle clothing (or, well, in the Prewett brothers' case, an attempt at muggle clothing) and he found himself equal parts amused at the idea of her shopping in a muggle store and entranced by how damn good she looked in the clingy maroon dress.

He was focused enough on her that he nearly missed the look on Peter's face. And, oh _hell_ no. That hopeful, interested smile had absolutely any place being on Pete's face while he was watching Clio. That was _not_ happening. Didn't he know that was against the unspoken rules? Clio belonged to... Well, no. She didn't belong to James. Not anymore, if she ever really had. Today was kind of overwhelming proof of that. And she sure didn't belong to him. He wasn't sure what to think about that, all the sudden. But _still_ , Peter was not allowed to make a move on Clio. That much he _was_ certain about.

"Can I cut in?" He asked.

Peter looked like he wanted to say no. He really did. His jaw tensed and his brow furrowed in a way that was blatantly frustrated and obviously aggravated. But this was Pete and Pete had never been able to tell Sirius no.

"Hey," Clio said softly, her face and whole body turned away from Peter and toward him.

"Hey," he replied, resting a hand on her waist as Peter fell back a step.

"Sure," Pete said tightly. "I wanted to get another piece of that cake anyhow."

"Thanks for the dance, Pete," Clio told him, in a way that was somehow both kind and a clear dismissal.

The band switched to something softer, slower, and he pulled her in closer than he probably should, swaying softly to the tune. Her hands rested against his neck and he couldn't help but shut his eyes briefly at the feel of her fingers on his skin and the curve of her waist against his palms. She whispered a near-silent sigh against the bulk of his chest.

"I never really thought this would happen," he said.

She looked up at him hesitantly, missing a half of a beat in their dance but quickly making up for it.

"James and Lily, I mean," he clarified, realizing that - yeah - there were lots of ways to take that sentence.

"Hmm..." she said quietly, eyes flicking briefly toward the newlyweds dancing a few dozen feet away from them before refocusing wholly on him with a very small smile scarcely gracing her lips. "I did."

"I kept waiting for her to decide she'd made a mistake. After all, James was the same bloke she'd been viciously turning down for years, so I didn't think it'd stick for long," he said.

"She never hated him in the first place," Clio said. "Not really. If anything she was probably terrified of that much emotion focused on her. That's a big thing for a teenage girl to find directed at herself."

He stared back at her a moment, not saying anything. She might be right about Lily on that, he decided. He wasn't really sure. But what he was absolutely sure of was that it would have been true of Clio if their situations had been reversed. If there was one thing Clio didn't do well, it was vulnerability.

"And then there was me," she smiled up at him a little brighter, drifting the conversation forward. "I don't suppose I helped things along much, either."

"And then there was you," he echoed, his tone a little richer than probably made her comfortable. "I was always sure you two would end up back together."

"Not a chance," she replied softly.

"You think if they hadn't worked out he wouldn't have come around trying to patch things up?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"No, he probably would have," she agreed, her hazel eyes fixed solidly on his grey ones. "I just wouldn't have taken him back."

"Why not?" he asked, even though he was a little afraid of the answer.

"Because I don't want to be anyone's second choice. I'm better than that."

She was. She _was_ and he loved that she was confident enough to know that.

He hummed in agreement and slid his hands around her waist a little tighter, fingers seeking out the skin of her back where her dress dipped low. She shuddered and dug her teeth into her fleshy lower lip as his thumb found her spine and stroked in a nearly-chaste but not-entirely-innocent gesture.

"Want to grab a drink?" he asked, voice a little gritty as the song ended and switched to something faster.

"Not particularly," she responded, to his surprise.

"This is a nice hotel," she said, which kinda threw him for a loop. Because, seriously? They were talking about the hotel? Why?

"I guess," he replied.

"I'm staying here," she told him.

Oh...

_Oh_...

"Really?" he questioned, his voice dropping a few pitches.

"Yeah..." she said a little breathily, breaking his gaze for a second to skim her eyes down toward his lips.

"Do you, uh..." she shook her head a little and let out a breath that sounded half like she was laughing at herself and half like a sigh. "Do you want to see my room?"

Well _shit_ if that wasn't the most blatant invitation he'd ever gotten.

"Yes," he ground out, as turned on as he'd ever been in his entire life.

They broke away from the dance floor, but he couldn't make his hand leave the skin of her lower back, fingers somehow both stroking and guiding her at the same time. And, yeah, somewhere in his mind he was pretty sure that the best man wasn't supposed to leave before the bride and groom, but a quick glance in James' direction (and eight years of history) assured him that James was wholly wrapped up in Lily and wasn't about to even notice his absence, much less care about it.

They were blessedly the only ones in the elevator when they entered it and no sooner had she pressed the button for her floor than he was on her, lips fusing against hers and stealing a little gasp of air from her mouth. Honestly, he couldn't have even said if the doors had shut yet, but he also just didn't _care_. This was years in the making and finally, _finally_ about to happen and Sirius was not someone accustomed to waiting for something he wanted.

She surged against him, her hands grasping for purchase against the base of his skull, body seeking his at every point. They slammed against the far wall of the elevator and she made an intoxicating little gasping noise as he planted his knee between her legs and settled his hands underneath her thighs, hoisting her up a bit. Her small frame curled around his, legs gripping against his hips, fingers clinging at his hair, tongue seeking his with absolutely zero hesitancy.

Something about this was so insanely _right_ in spite of how long he'd told himself that doing anything like this would be so very _wrong_. This was Clio pressed between him and the wall, gasping against his lips. _Clio_. Merlin but his heart pounded faster at that knowledge. How could this, _this_ have ever been wrong?

He was damn close to just hitting the emergency stop button on the stupid elevator and taking her right there, but the elevator chimed as it hit her floor and part of him was grateful for it. She wasn't Portia or Allison. This wasn't some quick fuck before an awkward goodbye with no strings attached. At least, he hoped it wasn't. To be totally honest, she had his head spinning and he was far from clear on where her mind was at. Really, he wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't clear about that either.

Somehow they fumbled out of the elevator and toward a door and she hurriedly fiddled with the key in the lock before they nearly fell through. Then, in the thin light with her feet firmly planted again on the ground but her hands still on his face, something shifted. Slightly, and maybe only on his side, but a distinct rotation of the world on its axis. They were here, finally on even ground. And tonight, at any rate, she was here and she was his. At least one of those two facts wouldn't be true tomorrow. Hell if he wasn't going to try to ensure the other stayed the same.

When he kissed her again, it was slow and deep, calculated and wanting. His hands were buried in her hair and he couldn't resist the urge to drag his lips downward, across the curve of her jaw to the slope of her neck.

"Lovely room," he said against her throat.

She laughed and his heart skipped a beat as her voice rumbled against his lips.

"It's better with the lights on," she informed him.

"I don't give a damn what it _looks_ like," he responded.

"Mmm," she hummed, pulling his face back up to hers. "Me either."

He might not care even a little what the room looked like, but he realized suddenly that he absolutely cared what _she_ looked like as they did this. He wanted to watch her eyes flutter shut and her brow knit and her body flush as she inevitably broke apart beneath him (or above him or however the hell she wanted this to go). There was no way they were doing this for the first time in the dark.

Flipping the lightswitch and flooding the room in light, he settled his hands against the swell of her hips and kissed her softly but with definite intent as he walked her backwards toward the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she sat easily and tugged on his arms to bring him down atop her.

"Red's a good colour on you, Harper," He told her, taking a moment to appreciate her dress and wondering why the hell he was bothering with words right now. "But if you're thinking of switching houses, I think you're a little late."

She laughed and he could feel her smile in the press of her lips against his.

"Never," she breathed into his mouth.

He didn't bother with a reply in words, instead capturing her lips with his and running a hand slowly down her side, revelling in the shudder that overtook her body at the touch of his fingers. They were both still _clothed_ , hadn't even gotten to second base yet, and this was already better than some of the sex he'd had in the past.

Her fingers slipped beneath the collar of his shirt as he dragged his lips across the curve of her chin to pull the lobe of her ear between his teeth. She choked out a quiet, wanting little noise at the move, her chest arching off the bed and pressing more firmly up against his. He groaned in response and buried his nose into the skin of her neck just beneath her ear. Another gasp and quick, tiny bids for air shook her whole frame. _Fuck_ , but he wanted to find every damn spot on her body that could make her make noises like that.

He pulled back because he couldn't _not_ look at her all the sudden. Something raw and heavy laid in the span of their gazes. Her eyes were clear and open and steadfastly locked on his. It made his head spin.

"Sirius, I-" she started, fingers stuttering against the buttons of his shirt.

"Yeah," he interrupted, because whatever words she had actually been going to say didn't so much matter; He already knew and echoed the sentiment behind them.

From there, things only got better. He slid her sleeve down to kiss the skin of her shoulder and ran his fingers along the crease at the back of her knee. She nipped at his chin and adam's apple and her clever fingers worked open the buttons of his shirt to play along the span of his collarbone. It was unhurried and exploratory and incredible. It was exactly what he'd always thought it would be like with her, exactly what he'd _wanted_ it to be like with her. And, sometime later, after her body had bowed up against his and she'd sobbed his name against his lips, after he'd groaned out his own release against the curve of her neck, his body curled around hers and found a peaceful sleep, content and unafraid of the future.

But then, of the two of them, he was definitely the Gryffindor.

He awoke hours later with an arm sprawled across the otherwise empty bed, sheets already cool but the pillow still smelling of her. Blinking blearily, forcing his mind back to consciousness, he found her perched at the foot of the bed, already dressed and toeing on some shoes while she put on a pair of earrings.

"Hey," he rumbled, voice still gravelly with sleep.

She froze and turned a little toward him, dark hair tumbling over one shoulder as she smiled nervously toward him.

"Hey," she echoed, voice quiet but cheeks flushing beautifully at the word.

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"Early," she replied easily, finishing up with the earrings and letting her hands fall to her sides. "You should probably go back to sleep."

"You're leaving?" he asked, unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I have a brunch with my mother," she responded.

"Ugh, intentionally?" he asked, the haze of sleep fully dissolved at the mention of her wretched relatives. "Why would you _do_ that?"

"Business meeting," she told him, biting back a laugh. "She still owns Twilfit and Tattings and I want to put a case of jewelry in."

"Were you gonna wake me?" he asked before thinking better of it.

"I... Maybe."

Well, _that_ was a no.

"When do you leave?" he asked, sitting up, sheets pooling around his waist.

"Uh," she stuttered, momentarily distracted by his bare torso.

"Clio?" he asked, smirking at her because - yeah - he knew and loved that he could do that to her.

"Leave England?" she clarified, meeting his eyes but apparently unable to banish the hungry look living in them.

"Yeah."

"Tonight," she replied. "I've got an international floo at eight."

"Right..." he responded flatly.

He'd known. He'd _known_. It's not like one incredible night together had been going to make her give up her apprenticeship and move back to England to be near him (and her awful family and the horrible war and everything else was was perpetually running from). That was just not a thing that was ever going to happen.

"I, um..." she started, tucking her hair behind her ear, and for a moment he was horrified that she might be about to start a very awkward conversation about the future or about last night. "There's a conference in London I was thinking about going to the month after next."

"Yeah?" he asked, feeling stupidly hopeful. "Maybe we could... spend time together."

...By which he meant "have more sex" but "spend time together" seemed like more appropriate wording.

"I'd like that," she said, smiling nervously.

He leaned forward at that, hand settling over hers on the comforter as if trying to keep her from running away as he kissed her deep and slow. When he pulled back, her nervousness seemed to have been mostly replaced by something lighter, happier.

"I'll owl you," she told him as she squeezed his fingers and stood to leave.

"Be safe," she told him as her fingers settled on the door knob.

"See you in two months," he responded.

And with that she was gone, leaving him alone and naked in a hotel bed surrounded by rumpled sheets and memories of the night before.

 

* * *

 

He waited nine days to owl her. Honestly, considering that there was a war on, he felt that his restraint was beyond reasonable.

_Harper,_

_I see how it is. Now that you've had your wicked way with me you can't be arsed to drop me an owl? I feel so used. (Feel free to use me again at your convenience.)_

_S.B._

Her reply came faster than he'd expected, in the form of one very portly, irked grey owl perched on his windowsill, pecking incessantly the next morning.

_Oh, Sirius, if you think that was wicked then you reputation is fairly overblown._

_C.H._

It was kind of the perfect set-up and not at all the kind of thing that any self-respecting marauder could let lie without response. Honestly, he couldn't be blamed in the least.

_As I recall, there was no blowing of any kind on the night in question._

_S.B._

It took two days for a response, which actually made Sirius _anxious_ , which was a new and unpleasant feeling. But when he finally got it, his grin was wide and something in him settled, unease fading away.

_Maybe next time. Just booked my floo for London. I'll be in town next month from the 23rd through the 30th. Hope to see you then!_

_C.H._

* * *

 

Summer gave way to Autumn and then Winter in a way that felt too fast, like the world was spinning faster without the routines of Hogwarts and adolescence attached to it. He and Clio had seen each other three times in the seven months since James and Lily's wedding. She'd come to that conference in London, he'd volunteered for an Order mission on the continent, and she'd met with some merchants in France where he'd conveniently decided he needed to go for a long weekend. Every time had been as good as the first, maybe better since her skittish nature seemed to lessen as things went on.

It'd been six weeks since he'd seen her last and he hadn't been expecting to see her again for at least another month, but then everything went to hell.

The first time he woke up in St. Mungo's, everything _hurt_. It felt like his whole left side was on fire and he tried to scream but his voice came out like a dried-out, hoarse groan. There had been other people in the room, but he didn't, _couldn't_ , stop to look at any of them until after the healers' wands worked their magic over him, lessing his blinding pain down to severe discomfort with a few flicks and swishes.

The boys had all been there, Remus looking concerned (which was really just his regular face) and Peter looking like he suddenly understood that this wasn't all a game and James with an arm in a sling and a nasty burn mark up his neck. _Fuck_ that had brought it all back, the no-holds-barred battle against a pair of Death Eaters on a muggle street in Birmingham. Thank Merlin James had come out of it with minimal injuries. Lily, her pregnancy barely showing, had stood next to him, looking one part terrified and two parts livid. At least she hadn't been mad at him and James, this time.

"You're going to be okay, Sirius," Lily had said fiercely, as if her determination might make his recovery a greater certainty.

"We got 'em, Sirius," James had pitched in, looking more solemn than he could ever remember his best friend looking.

"Who... who was it?" his voice had forced out, sounding foreign and raw to his own ears.

"Gaius Wilkes is on his way to Azkaban right now," James had said hesitantly. "That was a great _flipendo_ you managed. Knocked him out cold."

"And the other?" Sirius had grit out, feeling like James was stalling.

"...Briareos Harper," James had winced and Sirius had felt his own brow furrow painfully at the revelation. "He didn't make it."

And... fuck. _Fuck_. That was just... Damn it. It wasn't fucking fair. Clio had run far and fast and the war still seemed to make it to her doorstep. He'd killed her eldest brother, the Harper heir, and he couldn't even regret it because it had been the right thing to do. But... _fuck_... he'd unknowingly killed his lover's brother. When the hell had his life become so uncomfortably... Shakespearean?

He'd groaned and his head had fallen back against the pillow, half at James' revelation and half in pain. The healers had apparently taken that as a sign that he was not well enough for company and had shooed everyone out before dosing him with a rather ridiculously strong dreamless sleep potion. And, for a while at least, he'd drifted from consciousness to a place where he didn't have to face the mess of the world around him.

It was dark when he woke next, both outside the window and in his room, but he wasn't alone. Thanks to spells or potions, the pain in his body had transitioned to numbness, which was infinitely preferable. But, the sight of a petite female form with her arms wrapped protectively around her middle in the corner of his room brought about a whole different kind of pain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, drawing her full attention immediately.

"I... Lily sent me an owl," she replied, edging forward toward his bed, arms unravelling from her midsection but seeming uncomfortable no matter what she did with them.

She'd been crying. _Shit_ , he'd made her cry. Well, of course he had. He'd killed her brother. Even if they hadn't been close, even if he'd been a Death Eater, Briar had still been her _brother_. Sirius knew exactly what that felt like. He lived in dread of the day it would be Regulus one of them came up against.

"Lily did?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's... perceptive, apparently," Clio said with a dull laugh as she dragged a hand through her hair.

By unspoken agreement, they hadn't told anyone about their... relationship, if that's what it was. For one thing, Sirius didn't actually know what the hell he would say. For another, it was just safer without the risk of her family - or his - finding out. But mostly, Sirius still felt a bit of misplaced guilt about starting something with James' ex-girlfriend, even if he knew James wouldn't actually care in the least at this point.

"Clio, I swear I didn't know it was him," Sirius told her. "I am so sor-"

"Oh God," she interrupted with something between a laugh and a sob. "You think I blame you? For _Briar_? I didn't take an emergency international floo back for _him_. I haven't shed a tear for _him_. You scared the _hell_ out of me, Sirius."

"Clio," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else in that moment.

What the hell _did_ he say to that? He wanted to hold her hand, to brush away her tears with his thumb and kiss her softly, but his whole damn side was numb and unresponsive and the most he could do was twitch his fingers in her direction. She picked up on it apparently, because her fingers closed gently around his and she settled carefully on the mattress next to him.

"Briar was a bully who was fully incapable of thinking for himself," Clio told him, leaving out the well-known fact that he had always acted at his mother's behest. "This was always how things were going to end for him. But you..."

He watched her gulp heavily before resting her forehead against his and breathing in the same air as him.

"Is this worth it, Sirius?" she breathed out against him. "I don't want... I just... This doesn't have to be your fight. Can't you leave it to the aurors? It's their jobs to fight. You're not a soldier, Sirius."

"You already know the answer to all that," he told her.

Hell. He'd made her cry again, warm salt water falling on his face as she kissed him like she wanted to hold him safe in this moment, away from a world at war.

"Why do you have to be such a damn Gryffindor?" she asked, sniffling but smiling as she pulled back.

"It's one of my more endearing traits," he reminded her with a lopsided grin.

She kissed him again, feeling like cherishing and tasting like longing. How was it that everything, _everything_ between them felt so very intimate. Maybe that was the biggest reason he hadn't told anyone about their relationship. It all felt so private, so separate from the world around them. But, with their lips still pressed softly together, the room was suddenly bathed in a warm light, and he pulled away to find one very surprised looking Andromeda Tonks standing in the door to his hospital room.

"I should go," Clio said, skittering off his bed and paling several shades as she went.

"Yeah," Sirius echoed, smiling lightly at her as she nodded politely toward Andromeda before apparating out.

There was a long beat of awkward silence where Andromeda stared at him with disbelief and exasperation written across every angle of her face. Sirius, it went without saying, didn't do silence or awkwardness well. Merlin but Andromeda had this way of looking at him that made him feel all of seven-years-old with pockets full of pilfered sweets.

"You cannot be serious," she said finally.

"I've been saying that for _years_ ," Sirius quipped. "But there is a rather strong family resemblance and I have to imagine that if I'd been switched at birth mother would have disowned me _much_ sooner."

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she followed up, stalking closer with her hands on her hips.

Honestly, that pissed off she bore an uncomfortable likeness to her older sister.

"You are playing with fire with that girl," Andromeda admonished. "She's a pureblood and a Slytherin and at least half of her family are Death Eaters."

"Well, when you put it that way, she sounds an awful lot like you, actually," Sirius pointed out.

"You just _killed her brother_ ," Andromeda reminded him, as if he could have forgotten. "And now you're dallying around with-"

"It's not like that," Sirius snapped, suddenly angry.

"It's not?" she asked flatly.

"No," Sirius replied, refusing to elaborate.

"This isn't recent, is it?" Andromeda picked.

"No," Sirius confirmed after a beat.

"Oh Sirius," she sighed, shaking her head as she looked down at him. "You _would_ pick someone your parents would have fully approved of up until you left the family, wouldn't you?"

He sullenly refused to respond for so very many reasons. Fuck but he hated this conversation.

"Are you in love with her?" Andromeda asked, studying him closely.

And, oh hell, what a question. He hadn't ever actually thought about it. His feelings for Clio, whatever they might be, just... _were_. He didn't name them, didn't think about them at all, really. Or, well, he hadn't until now. Shit. Was he in love with her? He was nauseous all the sudden. Did that mean yes? No, it didn't. It couldn't. It only meant he was on entirely too many potions right now, thanks.

"Oh, _Sirius_ , love..." she sighed, clearly reaching an entirely different conclusion than he had.

"'Dromeda, can we please save the interrogation about my love life until after I'm not drugged and newly not dying?" he begged.

"How do you get yourself into these messes?" she asked rhetorically.

He decided to pretend she was talking about the injuries. It was just easier that way.

 

* * *

_One Year Later_

"Next time," she said, kissing him lazily as his hands skimmed up her bare thighs and underneath his old Weird Sisters shirt that she wore, "you can be the one to visit _me_. England's weather is rubbish in January."

"Is it better in Rome this time of year?" he asked, running his fingers over the hollow of her hipbone and delighting in the shudder she responded with.

"Yes, but I'm living in Luxembourg now," she reminded him.

"Whatever. You move too much. Is it better wherever you are living which is anywhere-that-happens-to-not-be-England?" he questioned.

"In January? It's better _everywhere_ that isn't England. So, yes," she responded, voice catching only a little as his fingers searched for all the well-loved little places on her body that made her tremble and bite her lip in that way he loved.

"Were you planning on doing something that involved being outside?" he asked, grinning. "Because honestly my plans for us were fairly limited to the bed, the shower, possibly the sofa... ooooh, and maybe the kitchen counter."

"You're insatiable," she laughed, even as she kissed him.

"You love it," he told her confidently.

"Hmm, true," she confirmed, kissing him once more before backing up off of the bed. "But I'm still cold. And hungry."

"We worked up a bit of an appetite," he grinned proudly.

"Typical," she rolled her eyes as she shrugged on her bathrobe. "Want something to eat?"

"You're going to cook for me?" he asked, sitting up and raising his eyebrows at her. "Should I be scared?"

"Hey, maybe I can cook. You don't know," she argued good-naturedly.

"I believe you can order house elves to cook with the best of them, Clio," he responded. "That's not the same thing."

"Maybe not, but I can still throw together a sandwich," she countered. "But if you doubt my sandwich-making skills too..."

"No, no," he said, holding his hands up in supplication. "By all means, please prove your sandwich-making prowess to me. Astound me with your deli expertise."

"You're such an arse," she laughed.

"Yeah, that's why you love me," he countered without thinking.

And... shit. She froze with an uncertain look colouring her face and a breath caught in her throat. He kinda wanted to rewind the last minute and take it back, erase that uneasy look off of her face. But, well... part of him was dying to know what she was thinking right them. Did she? They never talked about things like that, didn't put labels on anything, but they were closer than ever these days, despite the literal distance between them. And it wasn't like keeping this up for nearly two years with her living countries away and him neck-deep in war was _easy_. If this wasn't love, would they still be doing this after all this time?

"Um, ham and cheese okay?' she asked, ignoring his comment entirely - as he'd known she would.

"Sounds perfect," he responded as she made her way from his bedroom toward his kitchen.

"Sirius," her voice called from the other room, "where do you keep your- James!"

"...Where do I keep my James?" he asked with a laugh. "With my Lily and my Harry. They work better as a complete set, I find."

"Merlin... No, Sirius," she huffed loudly from the other room. "James is here."

Oh.

_Oh shit_.

Well... at least Clio was wearing a bathrobe?

He literally tripped out of bed as the reality of the situation rolled over him. He fumbled his way into pants and generally tried to find anything to put on that made him be not naked. His standards weren't high. He somehow ended up wearing the slacks he'd worn to James' wedding and a quidditch kit.

Yeah... _that_ wasn't suspicious at all.

Snippets of conversation drifted through his flat as he hastily checked a mirror and ran his fingers through his hair to try and make it look less like he'd spent the entire morning having sex with Clio. James was saying something about having gone stir-crazy and then Lily's voice - oh, _joy_ , Lily was here too - chimed in with something about living their lives and Sirius finally acknowledged that his hands were in no way improving the state of his hair and grabbed his wand to fix the problem instead.

"... -is being a VERY POOR HOST, leaving me out here to greet his visitors," Clio stated very loudly. "Next time I'm in town, I'm going to stay with Tia."

_Merlin_ , but she was a terrible liar. How the hell had she survived seven years in Slytherin?

"We didn't wake you, did we Clio? It's... half-three," James said as Sirius finally admitted to himself that he was as put-together looking as was going to happen in short order and stepped out into his living area.

"Just relaxing. I'm tired," she replied crisply. "Time change and all."

The look on Lily's face blatantly said that they were utterly foolish to think they could hide things this time, but Clio kept her eyes firmly on James, nodding tightly as she spoke, so Sirius was pretty sure that she was going to give it her all anyhow.

"Aren't you living in Prague?" he asked with his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Um, it's Luxembourg now," she corrected.

"Which is like... an hour ahead of us, yeah?" he asked with a sharp laugh and shake of his head.

"I've been keeping odd hours lately," Clio said, sounding credible to exactly no one.

"Hey! There's my favourite Marauder!" Sirius interrupted bombastically, earning James' broad grin but heading straight toward five-month-old Harry in Lily's arms and ruffling the infant's hair.

"Oy! That hurts, mate!" James protested, hands clasping over his own heart dramatically.

"The truth is painful, sometimes," Sirius informed him, tickling his godson and winking at the lad before stepping back and clapping James on the shoulder. "So what brings you lot by today? Not that I'm not thrilled you're here, but my place isn't exactly lying low."

"Apparently not," Clio muttered beneath her breath.

"We got so bloody sick of staring at our own walls that we were actually debating painting them for a change of scenery," James said solemnly.

"Oh, don't censor it, love," Lily piped up. "We've gone completely round the bend locked up in that place and we needed to get out of there before we killed each other over something stupid like whether to alphabetize our books by title or author. Your place seemed a safer option than somewhere public, but if we'd known you'd had _company_..."

"We'd have come sooner, wouldn't we've?" James grinned hugely, hugging Clio like a child might their favourite stuffed kneezle.

Sirius twitched a little to the side as he recalled quite clearly that Clio wasn't wearing knickers.

"This is the best surprise we've had all month!" James announced.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess I don't have much competition in that regard?" Clio asked, her voice strained as though possibly James was squeezing all of the air out of her lungs.

"Well, there was that time the Daily Profit put two crossword puzzles in the paper instead of one," Lily mused.

"That _was_ a nice surprise," James agreed seriously, finally releasing Clio.

"Merlin, you need to get out more," Sirius said shaking his head.

"Not for lack of want," Lily responded dryly.

There was an unsettling truth to that sentiment that made even Clio's lips twitch in something looking eerily like sympathy. It was weirdly quiet for a beat or two but James had never coexisted with silence for long and he filled the emptiness in short order, as expected.

"So, what are you doing in town then?" He asked Clio.

"I, um... have some business to settle with my mother's estate," she replied stiltedly.

Yeah, cause _that_ subject was more comfortable.

"Oh... right. She... uh... died in Azkaban. We saw that in the Profit..." James hedged. "Er... we're sorry for your loss."

Clio blinked at him blankly as Lily rolled her eyes at her husband.

"No loss to me, James," she reminded him. "It's not like we were on speaking terms."

Sirius got it, obviously, better than most would. His relationship with his own mother was more confrontational and antagonistic than Clio's ever had been with hers, but all-in-all their family situations weren't as dissimilar as some might assume. Clio's rebellions were just far more quiet than his own. Still, he knew it was something James would never understand. Though Charlus and Dorea Potter were gone, they'd been doting parents and wonderful people.

"So you're in town for a bit, then?" James asked, obviously trying to transition past the discussion about her mother.

"A few more days," she replied.

"And you're staying here?" He laughed shortly, smirking as he looked around Sirius' rather small flat. " _Tell_ me you don't have her kipping on your settee, Sirius."

Despite knowing full well that what he was about to imply hadn't been true in quite some time, Clio was going to kill him. No question. But it was second nature and James had given him the perfect set-up and he had never been good about resisting impulse.

"Have you often known me to tell a beautiful woman that she _can't_ sleep in my bed?" he grinned.

James laughed, loud and sharp, which was a beautiful thing given the state of the other man's life these days, but it was a toss up if Lily or Clio was going to kill him first. Clio, probably. Lily was holding the baby still. Surely she'd put him down before committing murder.

"Well, I've never known you to be gentleman enough to take the sofa, mate," James said, still laughing. "Merlin, did she take your wardrobe, too? What are you _wearing_?"

"James..." Lily said shaking her head in disbelief. "Love, it's really bloody good that you didn't have your heart set on being an auror."

"What does that mea-... _Wait_ a minute!" James proclaimed, blinking owlishly and looking them over with a keener eye.

Oh _fuck_ but Clio really was going to kill him.

"You'll get there," Lily said, patting James on the shoulder. "Give it a minute."

"You two are shagging!" He proclaimed suddenly, waving a finger back and forth between them.

"And, there it is!" Lily said aloud and mostly to herself.

"When did you... How long have you two been... Blimey, Sirius! You could have bloody well _told_ me!" James exclaimed. "This is _brilliant_! Or... possibly I need to have a talk with you about your intentions... Do I need to have a talk with you about your intentions, Sirius? Merlin knows her brothers haven't."

"Oh sweet Morgana," Clio breathed, her hand rubbing at her own forehead. "If we're seriously having this conversation, I need actual clothes. And possibly firewhiskey."

"I'm a fan of the firewhiskey plan, but I liked you _without_ clothes," Sirius grinned cheekily.

If he was already in hot water with her, he might as well have fun. Right? Maybe she'd find it charming. It was possible. Remotely.

She darted a look toward James and Lily before leaning in toward him intimately and lowering her voice.

"Then have your long overdue male bonding moment so you and I can get back to being clothing-optional," she whispered lowly to him.

His gaze locked with hers, her mossy eyes sparking with heat and promise, and he choked out a groan in spite of the company.

She was _way_ less pissed than he'd thought she'd be. Hell, she actually looked kind of pleased. And that was... kind of thrilling? There were so many reasons they'd kept their relationship to themselves, not the least of which was that being together would make her a target to Death Eaters and make him a _bigger_ target with her family. But... their closest friends knowing? There was something about that that made it feel more real. And he wanted real with her. He really did.

"I'll be a few minutes," she told them before making her way back to his room and closing the door behind her.

"I need to go feed Harry," Lily announced as the little guy started to fuss.

It was too good a cover for an escape. Sirius had to wonder if she'd pinched the kid or something.

"So?" James asked, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet as Lily wandered with Harry out onto his porch.

"Merlin, Prongs, you're so excited you'd think _you_ were the one getting laid," Sirius laughed bewilderedly at his best mate.

"I _am_ getting laid," James informed him. "What else do you think we have to do at that bloody house? Honestly, I'm sort of amazed that Harry's still an only child, all things considered."

Sirius pulled a face at that because, Harry was awesome and all, but he was also kind of overwhelming and Sirius couldn't possibly imagine two of him screaming in unison. He was pretty sure Lily and James would be crying right along side them.

"But _you_..." James said, bringing the subject back around. "Is this like... a one-off that Lily and I walked in on or..."

"No, it's... no," Sirius replied quickly.

He might not be sure _how_ to characterize their relationship, but he sure knew how _not_ to.

"So how'd this happen? I mean, she's not even in the country," James asked.

"We, uh... we meet up every now and then," Sirius said.

"For how long?" James questioned.

"Since... your wedding," Sirius replied, wincing at the admission.

"That's almost two years!" James exclaimed in surprise.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed with a little shrug.

"And you never told me?" James asked, his jubilance giving way to hurt.

"She... shit, James. She was your girl first," Sirius barked out, running his hands through his hair. "And I tried to stay away from her. I did! I even dated Stella for damn near a year, but she was just... she's under my skin, James. She's just... she's Clio, you know? And, yeah, she's a bloody continent away and I don't get to see her often but that's still better than the alternative."

"Holy shit," James said stunned, his glasses slipping down his nose as his eyebrows arched toward the ceiling. "You're in a grown-up relationship!"

"Well that's a terrible thing to accuse a guy of," Sirius quipped, feeling far more settled than a moment prior when he'd spewed actual feelings at James.

"Look... Clio and I," James started.

"You _really_ don't have to talk about that," Sirius told him, leaving it unspoken that James and Clio's history was not a thing he wanted to be having any thoughts about whatsoever.

"It's just that we were never serious or anything. It was _fifth year_ , Sirius," James laughed. "Did you honestly think I'd be miffed if you dated her? I'm _married_ and you two are some of my best friends. Did you hold it against Remus when he started dating Maura?"

"Of course not, but that was different," Sirius argued.

" _How?_ " James asked, shaking his head as he grinned as though Sirius were completely daft.

"Because... it just was," Sirius said because, yeah, there was no defending that one. "And because he asked me first."

"That's because he's Remus," James said knowingly. "There's not another boy on the planet who at fifteen would ask a bloke if he could date the guy's ex-girlfriend."

This was possibly true.

"And besides, I'd have laughed my arse off at you," James informed him.

This was definitely true.

"So, do we need to talk about your intentions?" James grinned tauntingly.

"You are _not_ her family and frankly it's a little disturbing, this brotherly bond you're pretending you've got with her, all things considered," Sirius told him.

"That's a poor attempt at deflection, mate," James told him.

"I'm off-kilter today," Sirius admitted.

"Too much sex?" James asked.

"If that were a possible thing... maybe," Sirius smirked.

Damn, this was good. Better than he ever could have imagined, really. He and James were talking about girls and sex like there wasn't a war outside and they didn't have prices on each of their heads. It was like Hogwarts, but better because Clio was in some state of undress in his bedroom and Lily wasn't turning her nose up at James. This, it struck him suddenly, was how it should be, how he wanted it to be all the time.

"Are you lot done comparing notes or do I need to pretend to feed Harry more?" Lily asked, peeking her head through the doorway.

Sirius shuddered a little at _that_ thought, but James laughed whole-heartedly and his grin was contagious.

"Don't be ridiculous, love," James responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "When has either one of us taken notes on _anything_?"

"Well you've never had a subject you couldn't steal notes off of Remus from before," she shot back with that somewhat lewd-looking grin that Sirius fully believed made Lily Potter ten times more awesome.

Probably owing to Sirius' boisterous laughter, Clio wandered back into the room a moment later, fresh-faced and hair damp but wearing her own clothes. She seemed a little awkward, almost _shy_ , as she made her way back to his side and his arm wrapped around her familiarly.

They might have been together for years but in some ways they were still new at this. For all the owls and sex and pillow-talk, they'd never been a _couple_. Not really. This was different and - to someone as private as Clio - probably a little unsettling.

From the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Lily smirking knowingly. But Clio was tucked up against him, staring up with an apprehensive but open smile. Nothing was going to tear his gaze away from that.

"So..." James interrupted, grinning widely and staring straight at Clio, earning her attention. "Now that I've got half the story, do we need to talk about _your_ intentions?"

 

* * *

_Ten Months Later_

She lay next to him, her body like liquid against the sheets, the yellow haze of early morning dancing along her skin. His fingers lazily trailed along the line of her body, following the curves to dip into little pools of sunshine and dragging shivers out of her with his fingertips. She hummed appreciatively and curled a smile at him, eyes heavy with a familiar mixture of exhaustion and contentment.

The year so far had been brutal, a furious storm of war baring down on England and some days Sirius felt like he was stuck right in the eye of it. They'd only managed to see each other twice since January and one of those times had been for Marlene McKinnon's funeral. But, _Merlin_ , he had missed her, missed everything about her, big and small. From the way her nose crinkled up in distaste if he forgot and put onions on her sandwich to that little noise in the back of her throat when he mouthed against the curve of her neck and all the things between. Things were just _better_ when she was with him. That's all there was to it.

"I think I like you best like this," he told her, tracing his fingers along the line of her hipbone as she bit her lip and shuddered out a laugh.

"Of course you do," she smiled. "You're a twenty-one year old man and I'm naked in your bed."

"True enough," he agreed, kissing her shoulder with a brush of his lips, "but not quite what I meant."

"Hmm?" she questioned, carding her fingers through his hair and shifting her body to lie on her side facing him.

"Happy and tired look good on you," he clarified.

"I'd say thank you but since you're the one who made me both of those things I rather suspect you're complimenting yourself," she told him, quirking an eyebrow challengingly.

"Call it a mutual effort. We can both take credit," he told her, wagging an eyebrow back in response.

She kissed him through a smile, long and savouring with her hand cupped against his face, and it buoyed him and broke him at the same time because he _knew_ what this was. This was morning. This was goodbye. This was back to owls and the occasional floo call and he just wanted to hold on and live in this moment.

"Stay," he breathed at her as they parted.

He hadn't planned on saying it, but as soon as the word left his lips he knew it was right. So right. And he could have meant it any number of ways - stay in bed, stay the day, stay forever - but from her wide-eyed apprehensive look, he knew she'd taken it the last way, the best way.

"Clio... _stay_ ," he urged, tucking some of her hair behind her ear as he spoke.

"...Sirius," she started, her tone wary.

"You've always been my first choice," he told her and her face softened in response.

In spite of all the obstacles between them - the war, their families, her work - it really was as simple as that.

"Yeah," she echoed, an acknowledgement and return of the sentiment sighed back at him.

He watched her worry over the options in her mind, weighing it all out, and he honestly didn't know how she'd respond. She was so cautious, so wary, and there was so, _so_ much to risk simply by being in England these days.

"I have to finish my internship," she finally said aloud and he choked around his own racing heartbeat.

"But after...?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she replied, that secret little smile she saved just for him growing into a full-fledged grin. "Yeah, after."

"When's that?" he asked, excitement bubbling through his veins.

_When do I get to keep you_ had been what he'd wanted to ask, but somehow he'd thought that might not go over as well.

"Three weeks," she told him, slanting her body more closely against his.

"The week after Halloween then?" he asked.

"The week after Halloween," she confirmed, kissing him slowly with the promise of days to come.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Jojo for forever shaping my view of James Potter and thank you to andacus for always being my cheerleader/beta/bff and helping me be better. Many of the characters in this work are based on a now-defunct RPG. Some of the situations and even a few lines were lifted from it with permission from the collaborating authors. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read! <3


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